Hope Remains
by Toshiku Yumari
Summary: After Pyramid of Light: Kushoku woke up alone,unable to remember anything about who she was or anything else pertaining to her life.She searches for answers in the dark shadows of the ancient world,but somehow, her obsession to find the truth about her life ends up getting Domino City into a lot more trouble than what anyone could have expected. Yami BakuraXOC
1. Introduction

**Wow, I haven't posted anything on here in forever! For anyone who's read my other stories (Digimon related and also Hesitate), I doubt that I will be continuing them. Sorry to those who really liked them, but I just don't have enough time or interest to finish them (that, and I've forgotten half of what I had planned for them anyways XD). But anyway, I have a new idea for a story dealing with mythology, so I decided that I would write this FanFic to practice a bit. Here's the intro, and the first chapter should be out reasonably soon, but it might take me a while because of school. Nevertheless, please enjoy and review! :)**

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><p>Introduction:<p>

"We're being ignored by the very creatures that we created, Ra. I hope you know that," Set muttered angrily as he continued to pace over the clouds, glancing down at the middle of the room where a window showing the world and its entire people was located. The animal-headed god had a dark aura storming around him as he stopped and stared with hatred at the Earth's inhabitants below him. Despite all he said, however, the lack of respect he felt from the humans wasn't the only reason he was so upset with them. "I want them to remember us. Now."

Ra, being exhausted from hearing this speech over and over again, turned to the other Egyptian god and gave him a blank glance, allowing him reluctantly to go through the same plan yet again. He didn't enjoy hearing this so often, but it blew off some of Set's steam and that was good enough for Ra. The only thing worse than an annoying Set was a Set that was running around the Earth and heavens wreaking all kinds of havoc, killing everything, and being a royal pain in his tail feathers.

Having the permission to begin, the dark god did just that. "They've turned away from us because you and the others have blessed them too greatly. They are _happy_. There is nothing in their world that is evil anymore, besides the few killers and thieves; however, they amount to almost nothing compared to what could be." He approached the bird-headed sun god, coming close enough to be mere feet away from the throne on which Ra sat. The evil god was about to continue when a group of interruptions broke in.

Isis, her robes twirling as if there were a breeze among them in the heavens, cast a disdainful glance at Set before her eyes landed on her fatigued friend. "Why do you listen to him? You should know by now that nothing good will become of him or anything that forms within the recesses of his mind!" Ra glanced at her briefly, but his gaze fell away from the both of them as his bird-eyes found their way to the portal to the Earth. She could tell that he was no longer paying attention to any of them, being lost now in his own world of thought.

Set snarled at the goddess, turning to face her with rage on his face and in his tone as he shouted, "Stay out of this, woman! I've not come to lay this plot before you!" Set turned back to the seated god, wiping the scowl from his face as to seem less dark, that way his intentions wouldn't seem quite so evil to the other god. However, Isis and the other gods and goddesses that had accompanied her weren't about to let Set even finish that which he'd started.

Another bird-headed god, Horus, rushed to Ra's side at the sight of his failing strength against the power of Set. Resting a hand on Ra's shoulder, the sky god stared hard at Set as he said quietly but harshly, "You know just as well as each one of us that the humans are not smart creatures. They know that we are here, but they think that they are too busy with their earthly troubles to pray to us as often as they did in the ancient times.

"Set, your descendants have caused wars among them and they think that their world is coming to a hasty end. Besides, almost all of our temples and statues have been destroyed. There is hardly any way for them to worship us even if they wanted to." The stern, knowledgeable eyes never blinked nor left Set's face as he spoke, knowing in his soul that Set was trying to trick Ra into doing something that all of them would regret in the end.

Usually, Ra was able to fend off Set and his plans in a matter of mere moments, but the god of darkness had become much more frequent in his 'visits', and he was beginning to wear down the sun god. At the moment, Ra wasn't even sure who was touching his shoulder his mind was so cloudy. He knew, however, who was speaking with him. He'd heard the voice enough to be able to recognize it.

Set ignored the younger god, knowing now that if Ra was ever going to agree and help him, he would need to stop pausing to listen to the arguments of the other gods. Ra wasn't listening to them, so why should he bother? Besides, at the current moment it seemed as if Set was the only one that Ra could even hear to start with. And that was perfect.

Kneeling before Ra's throne, Set continued, much to the dismay and disgust of Isis, Horus, and a few of the others, "On the Earth, there is a certain number of people who have obtained a set of objects called the Millennium Items. Two of these items contain spirits from Egypt's ancient past. One is a thief, the king of thieves, and the other is a pharaoh. However, these are not the only items that can contain a living energy.

"If I…borrow some of your power, I may just be able to create another entity with which we can turn the whole world into tumult. Her power and evil will never subside nor be weakened, and she will be able to do anything that we ask of her with no questions and no hesitation. If we tell her to kill, she shall; if I tell her to steal, she will do so instantly. The only thing she will not do is surrender.

"Once the world is in complete chaos, it will be revealed to them who sent her, and who can take her away. They will pray to us for her to be removed from their world. When they do, I shall destroy her, for she shall not be necessary after that for they will forever be grateful that we saved them from the wretchedness that she brought to the Earth. And by the end of this battle, we will have everyone in and of the Earth praying to us; never will the gods of Egypt have such power after this.

"All you need to do," Set took the last few steps over to Ra, shoved Horus and his hand away from the sun god, and replaced the sky god's hand with his own upon Ra's shoulder. The touch caused Ra to raise his gaze to meet Set's black, emotionless eyes. "is say that you will follow me. You must give me everything for which I ask, do all that I tell you to do, and know that once this has been started there is no backing out. So, do we have a deal?"

"Of course not!" Isis scoffed, seeming absolutely abhorred at the thought of even considering Set's horrid plan. She couldn't believe she'd even stood there long enough for him to completely finish it. How could they unleash something so evil upon the Earth so that the gods would receive more power through the worship and prayers? It was not just, it was not the way that things were supposed to work!

But Ra had been listening.

The god of the sun stood up slowly as if he were in pain. He glanced over at Isis, and seeing that if he called for a vote on the issue it would have to be decided by him anyway since it appeared that some agreed with Set while others entirely disagreed, he proceeded to ignore the fact that they were even standing there.

A cruel smile began to form on Set's features, but he did what he could to suppress it; he knew what Ra was going to say, he'd known for a while now that Ra would give in this time, which was why he'd already gone through and planned out exactly who this entity would be, right down to the gender. Set knew that he had bothered Ra enough over the past couple of months to have weakened his will, and he was lacking much of his power already. Ra would be looking for ways to rejuvenate, and what was better than having the humans worship them again?

Just as Set had suspected, Ra nodded his head, saying, "For a long time now we have suffered. We have suffered because every one of us has been overlooked by the humans. Our power is starting to lessen; more and more each day it is fading away. If we have any hope of a savior, we must take it quickly, so go. Do as you've said and make someone who will help us. I will give you all the power that you need to do as you have promised." Ra took his seat again, his gaze yet again fixed upon the window to the humans' world.

If Ra had been more alert and less fatigued, he would've noticed how Set has specifically said 'she' when speaking of the entity. It would've told him that Set had planned this much better and more deeply than what he'd said. There was a much more evil motive behind this plot, which Isis and many of the others had already realized, and Set's reason for this plan was only a half-truth. But they knew that Ra was in no mood to listen to another one of their reasoning speeches.

Set left the heavens immediately, leaving Ra to his thoughts, Isis to her theorizing with Horus and the other human-loving gods, and proceeded to the underworld where he could do his dirty work in peace. His wife, Nephthys, goddess of the dead, accompanied him to the uninhabited part of the dark Earth. "Darkness, who is this girl that you're going to create? Tell me why you've chosen a 'her'." Nephthys had remembered her husband mentioning that the spirit was a 'her' and that pronoun had caught her attention since her Lord of the Dark usually made his warriors to be of the male gender since it was biologically strongest of the two.

"A woman has greater control over others. When scorned, there is nothing more fearsome. When saddened, there is nothing more compelling to another human. No one will suspect her until it is far too late, for I will give her also a gentler side which she will be able to use to hide from those who are weary of her presence. My Queen of the Deadness," In the darkness of the underworld, Set turned to his wife, and felt a kind of content to see her bandaged face at his side, "I shall make her in your likeness."

A wicked smile crossed Nephthys's face at the honor, and she drifted gracefully from Set's side for a short moment. Moving to the wall of the underworld (it was merely the hardened dirt of the Earth itself), she tore one of the gems from the wall. It was pale green and seemed to glow, the color reminding the goddess of the death while the glow resembled the power that she felt when submerged in that very thing.

Returning to her husband, she handed him the stone, enclosing his hand around it. "You said that the two other spirits were contained within objects called Millennium Items. Those things must harness some kind of power for them. And so, this girl you speak of creating will need something that will give her power. Make it so that she may draw as much as she needs to from this stone; it can be used as a link between her and the other gods." After she finished her command to her husband, she turned from him and left the underworld, leaving Set to do with the stone as he wished.

A pleased smile crossed Darkness's face at the participation of his wife, and immediately began to form with Ra's power and the stone the girl that would bring about the destruction of the enemies who had angered him so by their actions.


	2. Chapter 1

Well, it's definetly one of the shortest chapters that I've ever written (excluding introductions and epilogues, or course), but for the first chapter and not having all that much to put into it, I'm happy with how it's turned out. Well, I hope to get the next couple of chapters out pretty quickly since Thanksgiving break is coming up pretty quickly, and I've also got one or two other things that I might start posting in again, so hooray! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter; please review!

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

My eyes opened slowly, the crystal-green being met by the vast darkness that lay above me, sprinkled ever so carefully and deliberately with little specks of light that twinkled and smiled gleefully at me. I sat up with a groan; a sharp pain had shot through my left arm. When I glanced at it, I saw nothing that said, 'Hey, stupid, you're watering the grass with your blood', but instead there was a tattoo. It was all strange symbols and pictures, so I didn't know what it meant. I lacked the will to care about it much.

Getting to my feet, I glanced around at my surroundings. It was late, the night being very far along in its life, but my eyes were already adjusted. There were trees and other small forms of foliage, but it wasn't like a forest. Benches, man-made paths, and a pond were also in the vicinity, so that completely ruled out anywhere in the wilderness. Over the tops of the trees I was facing tall buildings that prodded playfully at the sky could be seen.

But none of that information was useful to me.

_Where am I? I can't remember anything beyond when I woke up—which isn't very good, to be honest—and I don't even know if I can think of my own name without giving myself a migraine. And that would depress the living daylights out of me. _ I snarled at my own thoughts; a quick look around at the buildings and my location would give itself away. It could run, but it couldn't hide, at least not from me. Nothing would be able to escape my vice of death.

As I began to walk steadily away from where I'd once been laying, I was almost knocked off my feet by an unbearably cold gust of wind that seemed to slice right through me, going deep enough to have possibly stolen the essence of my life. The chill was so violent that actual, physical pain shot through my core; however, it dulled away into a numb throb within a matter of mere seconds. Pain wasn't the only thing that the cold brought; a voice sounded clear and strong within my head, _"Your confusion weighs heavily upon my soul, my dear. I almost find it hard to believe I've forgotten something so imperative to your complete formation: a name. I will call you…Kushoku, for you were crafted of the pale, green gem, variscite. And as for your whereabouts, you are in the center of a park in Japan, exactly where you need to be. Do as you wish, Kushoku, for this is where your trek shall begin."_

…To be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure how to respond to that. I wasn't planning on answering, nor did I think that he was even waiting for an answer. The man had answered my multiple questions; I was in Japan, and I was Kushoku (I actually wasn't sure if that was my name or not, but since I could barely remember anything past my own fingertips, I just went with it for the hell of it). I had no clue what he meant by creating me or by that stupid rock that he'd mentioned, but that was just about as important to me as a pail full of twigs and sand. But if he was going to prove useful to me, then I didn't mind if he was a little out of his mind. After all, isn't everyone?

And furthermore, everyone's imagination can start to get to them when the darkness is bored and willing to play it little shadow games with just about anyone, no matter whether they are fearful of the deepest black or not. In this case, there was nothing that the dark could do to make me fear it. Respect it, of course I did, but there was no shudder in my heart concerning it. Anything that wished to have me as its victim would have one hell of a fight on their hands and would probably limp away with half of the blood that they'd first come to me with. It would be fun for one of us, most likely me.

I eventually dismissed the voice entirely and proceeded out of the park and into the empty streets of the city. There was no one else outside that I'd noticed in this part of town, but that didn't bother me one little bit. The flickering street lights were all that I needed for company right then. I stood under one of said lights as its light began to twitch and hesitate to give me its light. The constant switching between light and dark sent my mind on a ride; it felt like some kind of a high. I closed my eyes and basked in the opposite powers with a smile of both serenity and malevolence on my lips.

A moment or so of peace passed by before I opened my eyes, though they were only half open. I felt peace here in the night, as if it were some kind of embrace to me. It was warmth that my cold skin greeted with open arms and a joyful smile. If it was both possible and not deadly to my own survival, I would try to find a way to blot out the sun, to make the whole world and its population nocturnal. Why should I be one of the only ones to hear the sickly sweet whispers of the dark echoing forever in my ears?

I knew that some people were weary of such voices coming from nowhere, but they should be welcomed, not fled from. When you show such a lack of respect, you're bound to be on somebody's hit list, and when that list belongs to the King of Darkness, then hell itself will be nipping at your heels. But for those who succumb completely to its wishes, only the life of a schizophrenic will be awaiting them. It's best to respect the dark, but tease it as if you were toying with a small kitten and its catnip mouse. That way, both parties are genuinely pleased.

Feeling the black clouds and sparkling stars become unexpectedly intoxicating to me, I gave a little twirl and danced out of the flickering light and into the impending shadows with an ear-to-ear grin stretched across my face. A couple of trash cans I noticed out of the corner of my eye now had my full attention, and my new enthusiastic high sent me into a violent little rampage. And, sadly for them, they were the target of this new ecstatic-ness.

I stopped in mid-twirl and swung my right leg out, sending the metal can clanging loudly across the quiet street. I could hear an alarmed dog barking inside one of the neighboring houses, but no lights turned on and no one glanced out their windows in curiosity. Even if someone had, there was nothing that they could've done. I would be long gone before anyone could call the authorities, and it was far too dark for anyone to see me clear enough to give a half-way decent description of me.

I could do whatever I wanted.

Turning away from the can that was currently in the middle of the road, I saw that there were plenty more for me to beat on. And beat on them I did. On one of the first couple, I sent a kick hard into the side of it, then picked it up and gave it a rough toss near the other one. Another I knocked over with a harsh bump, leaping up and its side and crushing it under my feet as soon as it had touched the ground. I would often laugh inwardly as I imagined the confused and perplexed expressions that would befall the owners of these metallic containers.

Finally, I gazed out over the street; it was covered with dented trash cans and all kinds of discarded trash (half of which I didn't even wish to know what it was). I smiled at the mess that I'd made, feeling pleased and more than happy to tell the world, 'Guess what? _I_ did this! Aren't I just so _special_?' But I wasn't a complete nut so I remained silent but smiling and headed away from the chaos-reeking area.

As I walked away from all the garbage in the street, I still felt that little bit of a high and couldn't stop myself from humming a little tune that popped into my head. The melody make me think of the Boogeyman hiding underneath an unsuspecting child's bed, waiting for them to awaken and swing their feet over the side of the bed so that he could reach out and snatch them, only to drag them away into the dark of the underworld, their screams of terror and pain doing nothing at all to help them. Such happy thoughts were mine…

I wasn't sure what to go and do now; the strange, stalker-voice hadn't mentioned anything specific regarding such things, but I guess I wouldn't have wanted him to be going off and telling me what to or not to do. I suppose that that didn't matter anyway since I should be able to find something to interest myself at least until a little trinket came by that would be much more fun to mess with. The only problem was not knowing what to use to occupy my mind until said play-thing came around.

Until then, I was subject to wandering around.

Beginning to hum to occupy myself, I stuck my hands in my pockets and looked around; I'd covered a fair amount of ground despite my transportation being my own two legs. There were a few shops in the area around me now with a few houses mixed in. I thought I could see what looked to be either a museum or a really big high school off in the distance, but with the dark obscuring my vision, I couldn't be sure. I would sort that out at a later time.

Becoming insanely curious without much reason behind it, I meandered up to one of the windows of an interestingly designed shop. Peering through the glass door, I could see cabinets made of glass around the perimeter of the room. My interest was instantly intrigued. Shuffling through my pocket for a moment, I found what I'd been looking for: a bobby pin (if you were a thief, it didn't matter what kind of hair style you had, you just had to have one of these things with you).

After picking the lock, I gave the door a gentle push and snuck inside, hoping that if there was a bell connected to the door, the delicate movement wouldn't set it off. Thankfully, if there was a bell, it didn't make a single noise. I relaxed slightly, knowing I could move around undetected for a while, and began my investigation of the merchandise.

The black shade of the night made it the tiniest bit difficult to tell what everything was exactly, but for the most part all I was finding was cards from a popular card game and a few other things that had to do with said game. Some of the prospects of the game caught my attention, like how you needed to be far wittier than the other duelist. It was splendid if you thought about it in its wholeness for a moment.

However, nothing that I saw really impressed me enough to want to get a closer look, so I started to head for the door. It felt wrong to just leave without so much as a sign that I'd been here, so I turned to break one of the cabinets when I noticed a door near the back of the shop. Once again I became curious and went over to it, only to find that it too was locked. Exposing my trusty pin again, I picked the lock on this door as well and entered the home without so much as a peep. This proved to be much more promising than the store.

The first doorway led to a hallway, which brought me then to a very homey-looking living room. Pictures were both on the walls and on shelves around the room. Other furniture and décor was there besides the pictures, but they didn't interest me as much for whatever reason. However, even though I barely cared that they were there, I felt a strange need to run my palm over them as I walked past, my intentions set on getting a closer peek at that which hid within the picture frames.

Gliding up to one of the shelves, I whisked one of the frames away and held it with my fingertips. There was a young boy with tri-shaded hair (blonde, black, and magenta…somehow) sitting up on the shoulders of another older man, the resemblance of the two close enough that he was most likely his father, perhaps an uncle. Both were smiling and appeared happy, but I could sense just by the false perfection of such a moment that something that would tear their close relationship apart was lurking behind the next corner.

I set the frame back down where I'd found it and moved on to the next photo. This one had the same boy in it, but he was older. He was surrounded by a group of three or four (I didn't care, so I didn't count), and they were all grinning like fools at the camera. Only one girl was in the little group, her hair short and brown, eyes wide and a bright shade of blue. Two other guys stood with the two of them, one also with brown hair and the other with blonde.

But I cared not for any of them, only for the boy in the center of the picture. Or, to be more specific, the ornament that hung around his neck by a chain. It appeared obviously to be ancient, and I assumed it to have been of Egyptian descent because of the original pyramid shape—even though it was upside down. There was also a strangely crafted eye upon the side facing me; it seemed to be asking what I was doing in this house—in _his_ house.

I felt no fear for Egyptian relics (if I was right and that's what it was), but I was quite aware that they could draw fright and terror from others of this world. And if I was wrong and it was merely a necklace, then I should be able to acquire a decent fortune from the golden item. Placing the picture frame back in its place, I was about to turn and ascend the stairs in search of this object when I was caught off-guard by something I had not expected: a voice.

"Hello? Who's there?" Spinning around with a slight look of horror at being discovered, I turned to see the light of a flashlight being shined directly at me. I was nearly blinded by the LED light and had to shield my pale eyes from it to keep from seeing spots. "Tea, is that you? What are you doing here so…" The man's voice trailed off when he realized that I was clearly not who he'd assumed me to be; I could feel a sense of minute panic take over for a split second within his soul.

It made me remember that I was superior, no matter who this voice ended up belonging to.

When I felt that I'd adjusted enough to the sudden change of lighting, I returned my gaze to the man standing but a few yards away from me. The light illuminated not only me, but him and the whole room as well. He was elderly—which explained how weary his voice had sounded—and the style of his gray hair was similar to that of the young boy's in the photographs. _If the other man was that boy's father, then maybe this is his grandfather…_

Not knowing for sure whether I should make a comment regarding him having mistaken me (or any remark for that matter), I made the best decision and remained silent as I stared with wide, cautious eyes back at the old man. He gazed right back at me with violet eyes that were deep in thought, but at the same time were trying hard not to look away from me, lest he would become my victim. He would be lucky tonight since I had no intention of either homicide or an assault; tonight was for information only.

After a while longer of staring at one another, neither of us knowing what to do, the elder of the two of us made the first move. "Here," he said quietly and calmly as if he were trying to be sure that he didn't frighten me, "let me show you where the door is, and you can find your way to wherever it is you're going from there." He must've thought that, based by the look on my face, I was some kind of confused homeless person who had somehow found their way into his home. It was actually a pretty good cover, despite me not even having been the one to think of it.

He came up to me with caution, probably hoping that I wasn't the violent type. The man was about to take my arm and tenderly lead me from his house, but I copied the action and grabbed his shoulder, gripping it tightly. I had no intention of leaving, not until I tested one last thing. When I'd let my palm brush against the fabric of the furniture, I could feel the heat made by the people that had sat there through the gloves. I needed to know if that was the only thing that they could bring me to feel; I had to know if furniture was the only thing that they could read.

The senior had been greatly surprised when I'd snatched his shoulder instead of him gently taking mine, but I didn't care. Keeping my already bruising grasp strong, I pressed the palm of my hand against his forehead, feeling a strong volt of energy rush up and down my spine, racing through the bones and muscles in my limbs before finally traveling through my right arm to my palm. White flashed across my vision as my energy crossed the bridge that my hand made and entered the man's head. The blinding shade didn't fade for a while, but when it did, the white light was replaced by colors that danced all over the place.

I focused on them, and after a moment or two, all of them took forms and earned voices. As everything cleared up, the multi-color haired boy came into view along with the others who'd been in that second picture; they appeared to be in the middle of a duel. There were a few others that I didn't recognize, but there was something strange about the boy this time. He was taller than he had been in the other picture, and he seemed older and more serious than the other boy. It was as if he were a completely different person. As he spoke, I could sense that his voice was different as well, "Joey, I'm telling you, summoning the Flame Swordsman in attack mode was not your brightest idea."

The Brooklyn-accented blonde answered him with confidence in his voice, although, from what I could sense of the duel, he had no reason to be confident. "You're just trying to psyche me out, man! Yugi's told me all about your little mind games, and this time they aren't going to work on me!" I watched them as if I were standing right next to them, the very room that they were in appearing like I was hiding in the shadows.

The memory continued with the brunette with a pointy hair cut saying in curt fashion, "Well, Joey, maybe this isn't one of the Pharaoh's mind games. Maybe he's trying to help you to not make a fool of you and your dueling 'skills' in front of everybody for the tenth time today. But then again, maybe he's trying to get you to think that it's not a trick, and that's the whole plan! Hm, decisions, decisions…"

"Okay, you know what, Tristan? Shut up!" The one called Joey retorted with a toss of his head, his blonde bangs twirling daintily at the movement. I found it hard not to figure that this kind of conversation happened a lot. It's like a rabbit's brain, you just know it's going to be all squishy and squashy. "I've already gone through every single possible outcome of this duel, and there's no way—and I mean no way—that Yami is going to win this time! I've always had luck with the number ten, and this is the tenth duel we've had today, so I'm bound to win. Now, does anyone else have any more comments before I beat this guy?" Joey glanced around the room expectantly, knowing that somebody was itching to make some kind of smart remark.

He seemed astonished when no one said anything.

"Well, alrighty then. That's what I thought. Now, back to the duel…" Becoming bored by their meager conversation and game, I moved closer to them, intending to take a look inside of Yami's memories. Why did they call him a pharaoh just a few moments ago? Was it some kind of nickname, or something a little bit more? Could it just be because of the Egyptian-ness of the ornament around his neck?

I was about to press my palm to the back of his head when everything around me froze as if it was a TV or computer screen that had just stalled. _"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Kushoku. If you cross over too many minds at once, you will lose track of your physical body and be lost within the minds of others forever. And I—I mean, _we_ don't want that, now do we?" _ As soon as the deep, gravelly voice had been silenced once again, everything started back up again. However, I remained motionless.

If I wanted to be the superior one, I could do what I wished and touch the teenager. If I wanted to trust the voice within my head, I would see if I could move onto another memory instead. When I thought about it a bit more, I figured that whoever this guy was, he seemed to know more about the powers I had than I did. So, I decided that I would listen to him this one time, but I swore to myself that never would this kind of thing happen again.

Focusing as best I could despite all the noise that the two duelists and their tiny audience made, I tried to see how this was actually going to work. I wasn't sure what to do besides think, so I attempted to think of another memory that this senior might have. _Umm…he's got to have something about his family in here somewhere… _As if I'd said a magic word, another bright white light flashed and all the sound that had once surrounded me left in a heartbeat.

Colors began to blot out the whiteness slowly but surely, and soon a picture of a cemetery surrounded by flowers and trees took over my vision. I wasn't sure what I was here for, but as I was wandering around, I soon found the answer. The senior man whose thoughts I was currently trespassing in was standing next to a little boy, both of them staring intently at something.

As I came closer, I noticed that the man who I'd once thought was old was actually quite young in this certain memory. The little boy standing beside him was almost the spitting image of him, so I figured that that must be his son or something. I approached even more, moving slowly so that I wouldn't disturb the feeling of serenity and peace I got from the cemetery (I liked cemeteries because they felt so…nice), and saw then what they were looking at.

A corpse. A corpse of a young woman lying in a coffin with her arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was of a bright blonde with little highlights of a golden brown in her bangs; she was wearing a velvet dress, the hue of it a gentle maroon. Her face appeared kind, the sort of woman that smiled often. By the look on the man's (I assumed it had been her husband) face, you could tell that it shouldn't have been the lady's time for another couple of decades.

There were tears in the man's eyes, but they refused to fall, lest his son should see them. He'd never have been able to guess that this time would come, at least not when his love had been so young. It didn't take much insight to his life to be able to tell that he would miss her more than he'd ever missed anyone before. He would love her always, until the day he died and joined her in the afterlife.

The boy had tears beginning to run down his face now, maybe realizing the permanent-ness of this moment. This would be that last time that he'd ever see his mother in the flesh, even though that flesh was growing steadily colder. He reached up to take his father's hand, holding it tightly like he knew that this was the only hand he'd have to hold now. His widowed parent knew this as well.

I was drawn rapidly from his memories when a pained moan erupted from the old man's mouth. The colors of the real world flooded my sight, and the brightness of the cemetery was replaced by the darkness that shrouded the entire home. I was about to release him and let him rush away from me, but instead of moving away from me with haste, he was close to collapsing.

Reaching out quickly, I caught him and lowered him gently to the floor before he fell there because of gravity's cruelty. I didn't want the old man to become injured without my having intended it; this was only to test the variscite, nothing more. Besides, he'd been through enough trouble tonight. I'd forced him to relive one of his most pained memories. It was only fair that I left him without physical torment.

Right before I was about to walk away from him, I noticed that his eyes were open slightly, staring at me with confusion and minute fear. His irises were of a royal purple, the darkness of them showing that he'd seen much over the course of his life, some of which he wished that he might be able to forget someday, but never would. This would become one of those times.

I squatted down beside him, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet while I looked at him, thinking without much purpose. Finally, I allowed an evil grin to grace my features as I whispered serenely yet dangerously, "Depending on your luck, this won't be the last time that I grace your home with my presence. Now," I took two of my fingers and gently touched them to his eyelids, closing them like you would a dead man's. "Sleep, old man. You'll need it." He listened and obeyed, his eyes remaining closed and his breaths becoming deeper.

After watching him for a moment more, I rose up to my full height and began to walk towards where I'd come in. However, I paused at the picture with the young boy in it, the assumed grandson of the man I'd just seen the mind of. Surely he was not the same teen that I'd seen dueling Joey, he just didn't have the same face, nor the same eyes. No matter how much he might've grown; it didn't matter. They were two completely different people, but both had had that item on a chain around their necks, the upside-down pyramid with the strange eye.

It had to mean something. But what?

None of the stores that I'd walked by an hour or so before had had anything like it amongst their other inventory, and I doubted that they would. This…thing was something special. It had more meaning than anything else in this house, than everything combined into one. However, the true significance of it was still unknown to me. _I could ask that voice about it. He knew about the memory-thing, maybe he'll know what this is. It's worth a shot, and won't cost me anything._

As I walked from the house, closing the door quietly behind me, I glanced upwards on instinct and saw the bright stars above me, waiting. It was like they knew that I was about to ask something of this voice, and were eager to eavesdrop on our 'conversation'. _Here goes nothing, I guess. _"I don't know who you are, and honestly I could care less. But you seemed to know what you were taking about before, so I have a question for you…" I waited for a moment, and after receiving no sign that told me to stop, I continued. "What was it that those two had around their necks?"

All was silent for a moment or so longer. I thought then that I must've seemed so stupid, asking something that wasn't even there a question as strange and seemingly-obvious as that. But just as I was about to give up all hope of being answered, I felt the painful chill and the voice rocketed out of the abyss around me. "It is called a Millennium Item, this one specifically the Millennium Puzzle. There are others as well, but I would suggest focusing on this one since it has been the first to present itself to you. It has many powers, like all the others do, but the variscite that you control can overcome it with ease. You need only use it."

The presence left me as quickly as it had come, leaving me with another question in return for giving the answer to another: How the hell does the variscite work? Sure, I'd been able to see into that man's thoughts, but other than that…was that all that I'd done with it? I wasn't even certain. Was that all it could do? Probably not, judging by what the entity had told me. But…how was I supposed to know what to do with it?

I growled in anger and frustration, tearing at my hair because of my own stupidity. If only I knew what all this meant…there was so much potential in my hands, in those stones. It was the skill to harness it that I didn't have; skills to kill, to steal, to mob…hell, of course I had all that. But apparently I couldn't figure out how in the world a rock worked. Wonderful.


	3. Chapter 2

*yawns* Well, I'm surprised that I got it done lols XD. I don't have a whole lot of time to make much of a note, but I just wanna let you guys know that I hope you like the chapter, sorry that it took so long to get out, and hopefully the next one will go a bit faster. Anyways, my bed is calling to me, so please read and review! Hope you like :)

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

The bustling of people and irritated honks of car horns woke me fairly early the next morning. I hadn't been in a very deep sleep, though, so I hadn't been disturbed as much as slightly annoyed. Letting out a loud sigh, I rested my aching head against the cool brick I was propped up against. I'd spent most of the night romping around town causing chaos (like mutilating more trash cans and other pieces of property), but part of it had been a useless attempt at sleep. My mind, however, was far too excited to be able to allow my body to get a bit of shut-eye.

Knowing that I'd never be able to get to the true rest that I wanted, I forced myself onto my feet and, shoving my hands into my pockets, I started with the wandering again. There were all kinds of people out, all of them heading to another day of work; I moved to dodge them as they brushed past me. I bumped into a few of them and received tiny glimpses into their minds afterwards, but nothing quite the same as what had happened last night.

The sights and smells from the old man's memories were fresh within my head, the colors still blurring my mind's eye. That experience was unlike anything that I'd felt before, and I knew that it was something that most people couldn't say that they'd done without being caught in a lie. It was impossible, illogical, and unreal. And yet, here I stood with _his_ life playing again and again in my mind. All I knew was that it had something to do with the variscite that that guy had mentioned a time or two; was it some kind of magic, maybe?

The glow that it gave off had always been something that I would've pictured when I thought of some sorcerer or witch conjuring a spell of some kind. But this wasn't something from a movie where they choose and create what they want their viewers to see. This was so real, and it was truly incredible. It made me feel as if I were invincible, like there was nothing that could be hidden from me because all I had to do was make some kind of contact and I would be inside their heads. The only issue was that I had next to no idea how I was doing half the stuff I did with it. Unlike my usual problems, I couldn't just ignore this one; it wasn't alright to have this one.

What I needed was to find something—maybe someone, even—that knew something about rocks or magic. If I could force some information out of them, maybe I could train myself in the power of the variscite. But that brought up a whole new issue: Where in the world could I go that I could find someone with such knowledge?

I sighed in exasperation, pushing that question away for another time. I didn't feel like searching for people right now; my stomach wasn't in that kind of a mood. It had been growling furiously ever since I'd woken up and refused to be ignored any longer. I had a feeling that it was ready to grow hands and eat its fellow organs if I didn't do something to stop it _immediately_.

As I was walking, the smell of heat and bread reached my nostrils, making my mouth water. I ran my tongue over my lip in anticipation of whatever scraps I might be able to find as I sped up, eager to find the place selling such sweet-scented morsels. It didn't take very long to find the café, the bouquet of bread, muffins, and other foods strong and thick in the air like a toxic gas. I licked my lips again at the beautiful aromas, feeling my stomach's rage grow even more after realizing that I hadn't even entered the establishment quite yet.

I watched people come and others leave, knowing that I couldn't walk in like they had and expect anything to come of it. I had no money on hand and the only fast way of getting any was to go off and pick-pocket some unsuspecting moron—which I would've done if I hadn't thought that my pissed stomach would betray me by growling and giving away my presence.

Lacking any other ideas, I was about to blow off my stomach's whiny attitude and keep looking for another source of repast when movement in the alley next to the café caught my attention. Even standing across the street I could smell the fresh food's aroma drifting into the air as an employee opened the back door and tossed the garbage into the dumpster. I grinned and started to cross the street, knowing that my breakfast ticket had just been thrown into that alleyway.

I pulled myself into the dumpster once I'd gotten to it, swinging my legs over the edge in a single movement. Digging as if in some kind of frenzy, I tossed random bags and other pieces of trash out of my way, the discarded items slamming into the metallic garbage cans with a series of loud crashes. I tore open a few of the bags before throwing them away, finding nothing besides wrappers, empty bottles, and things of the like. I growled in aggravation after having ripped everything open, flopping down inside the dumpster with a humph. _The smell must've been coming from inside, not the bag he was carrying. _

"Lose something?"

I glanced up with surprise at the unexpected voice and my eyes were greeted by a boy with brown eyes, fuzzy-looking white hair, and a very kind face. I cocked my head slowly at him, staring deeply into his eyes, searching for something, but I wasn't entirely sure what. Apparently he was a bit creeped out by my unwavering, unblinking gaze because he felt the need to fill the silence again, "I, umm…I heard some ruckus back here and saw you, so I came to see what you were doing and—"

He was interrupted by my stomach growling loudly, perhaps demanding food from him or for him to become my food. I didn't speak stomach, so I wasn't sure which one it was. Instinctively, I placed my hand over my stomach, trying to silence it; however, this only seemed to encourage it and the organ gave another loud snarl.

The albino-haired boy smiled slightly and gave a sweet little laugh before asking, repositioning his grip on the dumpster's edge, "I suppose you're hungry, then?" He let out another little giggle before jumping down from the dumpster and starting away from me. I glanced over the top of the dumpster, only to see him twirl around with that friendly smile upon his lips. He gestured for me to follow him. "Come inside with me; we can have breakfast together. Oh, and my name's Ryou, by the way."

I sat there and watched him walk for a moment, wondering if anything that had just gone on was real or not. A free breakfast from a stranger that actually seemed to be telling the wholehearted, honest truth? It was almost too good to be true! I leapt up and sprung out of the dumpster, moving quickly to catch up with Ryou.

When I turned the corner of the building, I had to stop quickly lest I crash right into the other teen; he'd been waiting for me to catch up before heading inside. He smiled when he saw that I'd agreed to his offer. "I figured you'd come. Who are you, anyways? What's your name?" He asked brightly as we found our way into the café.

I followed him through the door, wondering for a moment if I should give him the truth or not. He didn't seem to have much fear of me, which could end up being both a good and bad thing given the situation. Despite this lack of fright, he didn't appear to be much of a threat as a whole; however, I noticed then that he had a freaky circle-thing on a cord around his neck, and that looked quite menacing. _It's another Millennium Item. They're all over this freaking city!_

Remembering suddenly that he'd asked a question, I glanced away from the item and back to his brown eyes. "…Kushoku, my name's Kushoku. I, uh…I used up all my money on a ride out of my hometown." I figured that the lie was convincing enough, and it seemed to do its job judging by the look on his face. His eyes held a few questions, but there was also pity there as well, something that made rage bubble up within me. I didn't want anyone's pity, but I'd suffer through it if it meant food.

"That explains why you were rifling through the garbage," Ryou commented as we approached the cashier. There was no cruelty in his remark, it didn't seem like there was anything within his persona and was similar to such a thing. But what was up with that ring? I wanted to question him about it, but I knew that it was not yet the time.

We bought our food (Muffins: They could rule the world if they wanted to) and took a seat at one of the booths by the window. I figured that this was going to be the hardest part of the whole ordeal: small talk. If I said one wrong thing, all hell might break loose, but if I said nothing then he would grow suspicious. Either way, I would end up in deep crap.

Ryou, like I'd suspected, was the first to try to start up a conversation. "Do you go to the Domino City high school? If you do, I've never seen you around." I barely heard what he'd said, my gaze fixed upon the Millennium Ring, staring at it like it was staring at me. It was as if there was someone else sitting there with Ryou and me, their glower upon me never wavering.

It took a moment or two to draw my attention from the item and back to Ryou's question, and another couple of seconds to think of an answer that would be both suitable and believable. I'd have to keep track of all the lies I told him as well so that I didn't trap myself somewhere. "Like I said, I just got here a couple of days ago and I'm out of money. I haven't found a place that's hiring quite yet either." That last part was a little true. I knew that I'd have to find a way to get money somehow, and that meant a job of some kind. This was my first morning in the city and the time to look for a place hadn't crossed my mind for a while.

Ryou nodded his head, recalling how I'd mentioned that along with my name. He glanced out the window momentarily, nonchalantly taking a bite out of his banana nut muffin. His action reminded me of my own food, but for some reason I just didn't want to eat it. My stomach was confused and frustrated at my refusal of its source of energy, and eventually I had to force down a couple of bites. My mind was perplexed by the Millennium Item before me, the single eye staring at me as if it was attempting to steal my soul.

I had to see what I could learn of it from Ryou's mind.

I wasn't sure if I could get the variscite to work if it wasn't directly in contact with the person, but it would be a bit awkward if I reached over and touched him. Leaning more against the cushion on the back of the booth, I slid down slightly, pretending to relax into Ryou's presence. I stretched one foot and gently touched it to the tip of his, light enough that it couldn't be detected unless he was either paying a lot of attention to his feet or had a very acute sense of touch.

The world began to slow down as the variscite's power began to kick in and I felt myself slipping into Ryou's thoughts. The café's colors began to fade into white, starting to be replaced by those that existed within Ryou's mind. I caught glimpses of things beginning to take shape, but just as they were about to take on their ultimate, final form, something leapt out at me from the remaining colors, shrouding everything in black. A loud, animalistic growl was the last thing that I heard before feeling as if I'd been shoved roughly from the silverette's mind.

I sprung up quickly into my original sitting position, leaning over the table slightly as I tried to regain my composure; Ryou didn't seem to notice either of my sudden changes in posture. The hands upon me, that which had pushed me…I could still feel where it had hit me. _There's something off about this guy…There's something deeper about that object…_ I stared at Ryou's possession, wishing that I didn't feel so helpless, so pathetic in its presence.

Ryou must've noticed my gaze always lingering upon it since he glanced down at it as well. He didn't seem surprised at all that I'd been intrigued by it, probably because most people that he met found it quite interesting. It was a truly beautiful piece of art after all. "Oh, if you're wondering about this, you can ask whatever you—" He didn't have to finish.

I waved my hand to silence him, ridding my voice of all compassion that I'd once faked. I kept the minute amount of friendliness and I-won't-kill-you-ness upon my expression, though it did turn quite serious. Ryou seemed astonished at the sudden change, scooting back in his seat enough for me to notice his now apparent fright. I sighed to calm my nerves and tried to lean back and relax again before I went on with my question, my voice level and quiet so that no one would try to listen, "Alright, Ryou, I'm going to be very honest with you and you're going to have to return it. What is that Millennium Item called and where did you get it?"

His brown eyes were filled with dread for a brief moment when he heard me utter those two words. I could sense that he was about to spring to his feet and cause a scene, so I raised my hands as if to show that I was unarmed, a small smile coming to my lips. "How did you know that's what it was?" Ryou's words came out rushed and hushed as if he were afraid that someone might overhear our conversation. I didn't quite understand why; no one else would really know about them.

"I have my ways, Brown Eyes. Now, please, tell me a bit about your buddy there," I gestured again to the golden object as I lowered my hands back to the table, keeping them where Ryou could see them. That knowledge seemed to calm him a bit for whatever reason. Maybe he just wanted to be sure that I wasn't planning to stab him or mutilate him with some blade in the middle of this café.

I'd meant the Millennium Item, but Ryou seemed to think I was talking about something—someone—completely different. He put a hand immediately over the eye as if that would stop my words from reaching it, stop it from 'participating' in our conversation. He glanced at his hand, twiddling his fingers a couple of times for a reason that I was unaware of. Finally, he looked back to me with those big doe eyes. "How did you know about…_him_?"

Chuckling lightly for a minute at how he was unintentionally avoiding my questions, I held my hand out to him, palm facing the ceiling. Ryou looked with a bit of confused expression on his face, thinking his was supposed to be intrigued but having no clue what there was to be interested in. So, I explained, "I know you can't see it, but if I were to let you wear one of these for a second, you'd feel what I'm talking about. These gloves give me a lot of special little powers—or so I've been told. I actually tried to use them on you a couple of minutes ago. But something kept me out of your head—well, it went more like this: I got into your head, but something kinda kicked my butt out.

"Now, I've been honest with you, Ryou. I haven't lied. And I need you to do the same now. We'll start from the beginning, shall we?" I cast him a gentle smile, seeing that it comforted him and he relaxed a bit more. But he still kept his hand over the Millennium Item. "What is that thing called, and how did you come to possess it?"

Ryou took a deep breath to calm down, and I could see that he was starting to trust the tenderness that my expression showed him. His eyes searched mine for any kind of lie, anything that wished to harm him. I made sure that they were bare, showing nothing within me, not even kindness. After a moment or two more of silence, he turned to face me directly and started giving me the information that I wanted, his voice coming out slowly and quietly, but I could sense that his fear was gone, "It's called the Millennium Ring, and I'm not really sure what all that it can do. Despite everything it's put me through over the years," he touched it with a bit of affection, running his hand along the curved side, "it is a magnificent little thing…

"My father was in Egypt and bought the ring for me while he was there. I almost always wear it, no matter where I am or where I'm going—it's become a bit of a habit, I suppose…" Ryou became noticeably more anxious as he got further into the ring's history with him. He glanced at the table for a moment before looking back up at me, asking me something with his eyes. I deciphered it to be something along the lines of, 'Can I really trust you with this? Can I trust you with the safety of these people if…if something happens?'

Staring hard at him for a moment, wondering what could be bothering him so much that he would look to me in this way, I eventually gave a short nod of my head. In reality, I was crossing my fingers that nothing would happen like he feared. I didn't know how to use the variscite; I couldn't do anything. But Ryou went on, "I…I believe I know who would've done that to keep you away from my mind…"

The white-haired teen suddenly trailed off, his gaze yet again fixed upon the table, this time as if he were deep in thought. It felt like he'd forgotten entirely that he'd been in the middle of a sentence. I said nothing, watching him as he silently pondered something. I wished desperately to know what he was thinking of, what his inner voice was telling him. But I was unable to fulfill that hunger.

When he looked at me again, his eyes were filled with fear, but not for me. He began to lower his hand from the Millennium Ring, his voice taking an even quieter tone that it had been using before, "I'm sorry, but…I really think we should change the subject…" I could almost smell his fear in the air as I breathed, the distinct bouquet much more desirable to me than that of the bakery. But if he was going to be of any use to me, I couldn't make such a fact known.

I gave him a small, faked smile and raised my hands yet again in false submission to his request. "Of course, of course. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," Lowering my hands, I dropped them onto the table, crossed slightly over each other. A slightly concerned smile was evident upon my lips; it was there only to lull Ryou into a faux sense of security and comfort. I had to make him think that I was an honest being and wasn't craving desperately to slice him up and lap up the blood that flowed down his skin.

Neither was true, obviously.

"So," I broke the awkward silence, hoping that if I got him talking again I might be able to calm him. Maybe even find a way to get the conversation to switch back over to the Ring if I chose all the right words. "Do you come around here and take strangers to breakfast often?" I grinned when the fear fled from his eyes and he laughed sweetly.

It was such an innocent sound, the kind that would send a chill down a rapist's spine and make him think something quite nasty. This thought of mine had a bit of truth to it; I noticed a few of the teenage girls in the room turn to face the bell-sweet sound, their mouths gaping and eyes sparkling when the pretty boy came into view. I figured that he was a favorite of his female classmates.

Giggling lightly, he replied with his smile still upon his face, "No, I'll admit that this is a first. You just seemed so…I don't know. I tend to steer clear of most people that spend their mornings digging in the dumpster, but you felt…different, for lack of a better word. I wasn't wary of you, though, to be honest, I probably should've been."

I cocked my head to the right, a very jerky and uneasy motion, dare I say. Ryou's admission had caught me off-guard, and now he had me wondering what he was talking about. Our conversation about the Ring hadn't been that strange and I hadn't thought that I'd come across all that violent or deadly. Had I taken it a bit too far? Was I not being careful enough with this? "…Explain."

Still he didn't seem all that worried despite what he'd said, that same little smile resting upon his lips. It made me a bit less edgy to see such an expression; he wasn't fearful. With a minute shrug, he obeyed, his voice quiet but as honest as anyone could ever be, "Well, you know, you can never really know about some people. I've met more than my fair share of psychos and I don't intend to meet another that's as bad as they are—or were, anyway. I haven't seen or heard from either in quite a while and neither has Marik—Oh, no!" He slapped his palm against his face for a reason that I wasn't really sure of aside from the fact that it appeared that the British-accented boy had forgotten about something.

Not sure what else to say, I raised an eyebrow at his gesture before wondering aloud, "Uh, is there a problem, Ryou?" I glanced around, hoping that no one was still staring at the two of us after the incident with the Millennium Ring conversation. Nobody obvious was gazing in our direction, but that could easily change; I was starting to get a bit fidgety about staying in one place for such a long time.

Removing his hand from his face, I saw that he wasn't necessarily upset, but more like he was surprised with himself. He returned his gaze to me after a second or so, a small apologetic smile upon his face for suddenly changing the conversation and in such an unexpected way. "Not really, no. I just forgot for a minute that I was supposed to be meeting Marik—I mentioned him, right? Well, anyways, we were going to get together so he could give me a hand with a report for World History."

I nodded slightly, wondering for a split second if Marik was anything like Ryou—meaning, of course, if he owned a Millennium Item, as well. Perhaps one that would actually allow me to touch it. I would try to steal the Ring from Ryou if I didn't think that it would kill me somehow if I were to attempt such a thing. There was a strong power within it; that fact was something I couldn't ignore. I couldn't hide from the question that it brought up either.

Would that entity be a hindrance to my cause?

Judging by how Ryou feared it greatly and by the malicious sound that it had made when I'd touched Ryou in search of an insight to his mind, I doubted that he was a goody-goody. And that meant that there was nothing I had to worry about when it came to him, or whatever it was. Based on how deep the growl had been, it was probably a guy. That little tidbit of information made little difference to me, though.

Ryou and I finished the rest of our food rather quickly and in silence before leaving the café. I wasn't sure when to leave, so I remained walking beside him and would do so until he made any kind of sign or remark that hinted towards my parting ways with him. He, however, didn't seem to mind that I was still accompanying him. He actually appeared minutely cheerful about my presence.

"Where are you going to be meeting...Marik?" It took me a moment to remember the other boy's name, but it came to me after a moment or so. I only recalled it because it started with an 'm' like the word 'millennium' did. It wasn't the best of clues that I could've thought of, but it worked and that was good enough for me. Besides, I wasn't going to mention any of my name-remembering hints to anybody anyways, so it didn't matter.

Turning to face me with a smile that was obviously happy that the awkward silence was over, Ryou responded with that same tone that I'd learned was his natural key, "He's going to be waiting for me at the museum. My teacher said that we needed to get some information straight from people that we knew. Marik grew up in Egypt, and that's what my report was supposed to be about, so I figured that he'd be a good person to ask."

I nodded briefly, doing what I could to make little mental notes about both of these people. If I was ever going to be able to steal the Millennium Item from Ryou and the other boy (assuming he had one after all) then I would have to know everything that I could about the two of them. I'd have to face the entity within the Ring as well, but I'd figure that part of the plan out later.

It took me a second or two to realize that Ryou had started talking again. "…there's an Egyptian exhibit at the museum that's been that for a while now, so Marik thought that he could give me a bit of insight to the stuff that's there. We both agreed that with that kind of information—and if we used the Millennium Rod and the Millennium Ring kind of like examples—then I was sure to at least pass. Would you think so?" Glancing at me with those big fawn-brown eyes, I felt that it was hard not to melt into such innocence. No wonder all the girls loved him.

Returning the same kind of smile, I gave him a slight nod. "Yeah, I don't see why you wouldn't get a good grade, Ryou," If my hunch was right and Ryou was telling the truth, then Marik would be waiting at the entrance to the Domino City Museum right this very minute (unless he was just as late as Ryou was, which was doubtful). I had to get to that place before Ryou did if I wanted a chance of getting that Item.

Pretending to glance at my wrist to check for the time, I turned to Ryou and took both his hands in mine as a sign of respect and friendship, another deceitful smile upon my face. "Well, Ryou, I'd like to thank you for breakfast and for your company this morning. But I should be going now; I've got a couple of things that I have to do today," I patted his hand, feeling the anger coming from the Millennium Ring, but it was powered mainly by confusion and curiosity in me. I had to hide my malevolent grin at the new piece of information as I dropped his hands and turned to walk away. "I hope I'll see you around the city again soon, Ryou."

I didn't turn around when Ryou called a good-bye out after me, merely raising my hand in a wave as a sign that I'd heard him. I did all that I could to keep control on my gait, hoping that I wouldn't seem too eager to get away. I had to beat him to the museum. I just had to.

As soon as I turned the corner I broke into a run, taking every shortcut that I knew of from my constant wandering. Turning swiftly to race down a small alleyway, I had to leap over a clump of garbage cans, and it was at that moment that I knew for sure that there was no way that that Millennium Rod was going to find a way to get away from me. A confident, sneaky grin creased my lips as I hit the ground, still at a flat-out run.

I had to stop quickly since we'd been much closer to the museum than what I'd first thought and it came into view like a bomb exploding. I halted behind the closest wall to me, crouching behind it as I scanned the steps and doorway for anyone who might be that Marik that Ryou had been speaking of. He was Egyptian and had a Millennium Item with him. Other than that, he could be absolutely anyone.

With my focus fixed on the people, I glanced at every single one of them, searching for anything that would give my victim away. Seconds turned to minutes, and still no one appeared to be the one whom I searched for. My hope was beginning to fade and I knew full well that my time was doing the same. Where was he?

I was about to take a big risk and go search the building for the teen, but then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Swiveling my head instantly to face the newcomer, I smirked at the sight that I now beheld. A boy with golden hair and tanned skin had just come over to stand by the stairs, leaning up against the stone railing slightly. He was wearing a purple shirt, but anything beyond that and his hair color I couldn't quite tell. But there was only one question I needed answered.

Was this the holder of the Millennium Rod?

I couldn't see anything of the Item from this far away, so I moved from my spot and started casually towards the museum's steps, trying to keep from staring at the one called Marik. I jumped up to sit on the railing across from him when I reached the steps, and continued my flawless plan by remaining completely still and staring at him. Yes, it was the perfect plan. Staring.

I could see the Millennium Rod now; it was tucked into one of his belt loops. I would have to get pretty close to be able to get it away from him. But if the plan that I'd come up with in about three seconds flat went over the way that I was hoping that it would, then I would have absolutely nothing to worry about.

Another minute went by before everything began to fall into place.

Marik turned to glance around for Ryou, but instead he noticed my staring at him. He gazed back for a moment with a bit of confusion before turning away and trying to ignore the fact that I was there at all. But as I refused to leave or look away, the knowledge that I was still there was eating away at him. He continually stole glimpses over at me until he finally couldn't take it anymore. I had to hide my grin of success as he started hesitantly over to where I was.

The violet-eyed Egyptian stopped a yard or so away from me, his arms crossed over his chest. There was a mixture of confusion and caution etched over his features as he stood there before me, probably wondering who the heck I was and what was wrong with me. "Um…can I help you with something or do you always sit there and stare at people until they wonder if you're trying to plant your species' eggs in their brains from a distance?"

I chortled almost inaudibly at his question, allowing a smile to fall across my face. Shaking my head, I offered my remark with a tone dripping with a fake bubbliness, "I guess that depends. You are helping me by being this close since it's so much easier to get those eggs into your head through your ear if you're close up." I forced another little laugh before crossing my arms over my chest.

Marik stared at me quietly for a moment before a small grin broke across his face and he snickered along with me. "Sorry," he said, "I'm not used to being watched like that for so long. I've got stalkers, sure, but none of them do _that_," He held his hand out to me; I took it firmly and gave it a rough couple of shakes. "My name's Ishtar, Marik Ishtar. You?"

"Call me Kushoku," I replied strongly, my mouth getting used to the way that I had to talk around my victims. It felt normal now, which is perfect when you're going to be doing this kind of thing all the time. Marik would never see a thing coming until it was too late for him to get his Millennium Item back. Now, I had to wait for the perfect time to make my exit and sneak it away from him.

After releasing my hand, Marik placed his hands up on his hips, drawing my eyes from his to scan his form. I noticed then that his shirt was shorter than most, reaching far enough to cover him up but still leaving a good portion of his well-sculpted abs revealed. It was a nice sight; his tan skin shone in the sunlight and his sandy blonde hair glittered in the natural light, framing his royal purple eyes in a way that was most attractive.

It was no surprise that he had stalkers.

There was a short silence between the two of us like there would be with anyone who'd just introduced themselves to someone new. Technically only one of us had met someone that they'd never heard of before, though. I knew a thing or two about Marik, while I remained a mystery to him. "So, what are you here for today, Kushoku? Are you here to see the Egyptian exhibition as well?" Ishtar was the first of us to shatter the tiny silence.

I gave a bit of a shrug, not sure whether or not I would end up going to check it out in the future or not. There had to be something in there was would be freaking awesome to steal. It just took a creative mind to go on and be…well, creative about it. "I don't know. Not today, but maybe another day. I just came to check on the steps and that was pretty much it. I would've been here and gone in a second or two, but you caught my attention, so…yeah." I gave him another shrug, but this one was accompanied with a smile that knew I had Marik right where I wanted him.

The tan teen grinned at my words, obviously taking my comment as a compliment, which it was if you thought about it a certain way. "Well, I'm glad that I could ruin your plans," I smirked with a slight deviousness at his method of flirting, but I wasn't interested in him. I was interested in something peeking out at me from its place at his side.

He was sexy and seemed like he would make a nice little puppet for all of my vicious and bloody crimes, though. Marik would make a wonderful little pet, it would only take a bit of training and work at his submission. However, despite how enjoyable such thoughts were, I forced them from my mind and tried to focus on how I was going to get the Millennium Rod away from him without being caught. That was the most important thing right now.

_"Hurry, my darling creation. Make haste; the other is coming quickly. Your time is about to end."_ I shuddered somewhat at the chills that the voice brought to my body, but the warning that it brought sent a few courses of heat through my body. I wasn't sure how the entity knew that Ryou was on his way and closing in quickly, but that was the least of my problems. Ryou was nearing; I had to finish this up now.

I forced that same grin that I'd had a moment before back onto my face, jumping off of my perch and onto the steps in front of Marik. Even though I was standing tall, Marik was a couple inches taller than me just as Ryou had been. But it didn't bother me all that much…Okay, maybe it did a little bit, but that was stupid and didn't matter.

Keeping my arms crossed before me, I gave my head a toss to throw my hair out of my eyes. "I'm happy to have noticed you, too, Ishtar. It's nice to have met you, but I think I should be on my way. I've got something to take care of and it's imperative that it's dealt with ASAP," I raised my hand in a slight wave as I slinked around him, brushing my shoulder against his as I did so.

Normally, I would've made certain that I didn't touch him, but this simple whisking motion hid the fact that I'd snaked my hand around behind him and sneakily grabbed the Millennium Rod from his belt loop. Instantly snatching my hand around, I glanced back at Marik as I walked away. He was watching me walk away with a small smile on his lips; when he noticed I was looking at him, he gave me a small wink and a wave as a 'farewell'. I cast a grin back at him, but for a different reason that what he would think.

Turning away from him and continuing on, I rested my eyes upon the Millennium Item in my grasp. I could feel the power that hid deep within its bonds; it felt like the Millennium Ring had. _There's an entity here as well; I know it. And this one seems a bit more accepting of my presence than the other. I'll have to see how this goes…_

I almost couldn't believe that it had been that easy. Marik had never even seen it coming and probably wouldn't have cared if he had noticed. He was too busy with his flirting to have realized what was really going on. Or what his interest had done: Caught my attention. If ever there was a time when I felt like I wanted somebody to share some time with, he'd be the first on my list. _Keep your windows and doors locked, Marik. You might get a visit or two._

Another cold spell attacked my spine as a breeze swept my hair into my face again. _"You've done well, my dear, and I'm very proud of your latest accomplishment. You have one of the three Items that are ready for your taking; only two more. And what's even better is that you know exactly where they are. I know now for certain that you will prove to be the most useful pawn that I've ever created. Now, go and continue to wreak havoc upon this world."_

After the voice and the cool air left me, both were replaced by a sudden rage. How dare that thing call me his pawn! I could accept the fact that he'd made me, that didn't really bother me all that much, but no one—_no one_-controlled me. I answered to only my own thoughts and will, there was no other and there never would be. If anyone chose to try and take over my spirit, then he would find himself on a train that was heading straight for hell.

However, I did nothing to correct or rebuke the entity, knowing that he was already gone and probably couldn't hear me if I were to try. But the knowledge that he was gone erased much of my anger and my attention was returned to the golden object in my hand. How did it work? What could it do? What would happen if I tried to combine its powers with those of the variscite?

So many questions, and yet there was no one to answer them. _Well…there is that soul that's trapped within the Item…maybe I can get him to talk…._


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A golden weapon of confusion weighed heavily upon my side as I skulked around the city (I'd finally found the name of it: Domino City). I had no idea how to use either one of the objects now at my disposal, and it pissed me off beyond comprehension. The fact that my stomach yet again was making its own anger known wasn't helping anything, either.

I knew the names of both, of course: the Millennium Rod, and variscite. However, they gave me no pleasure, aside from knowing that they were incredible, unbeatable things. _They're not invincible if I don't know how to work with them…_ I let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that it didn't pay to be ticked about it. After all, it wasn't their fault that they were now mine.

Despite knowing that I'd be one hell of a thief to find, I was a bit surprised that Marik Ishtar hadn't made his displeasure about the lost armament known. At the very least I'd been expecting a disturbance in the force when he figured out what I'd done. I couldn't help but reminisce about the thrill that I'd felt after having swiped it from him.

A sly grin crossed my face at the thought, feeling quite proud at my little feat all of a sudden. It was hard not to find ecstasy within the danger that evil such as this theft brought. For starters, it was always interesting to see just what would become of what you took. And second, you never really knew what kind of a person you would be dealing with until it was far too late.

However, I doubted that I would have any kind of problems like that with Mr. Ishtar. And even if he wanted to come and give me all kinds of crap about stealing from him, he'd have to put a lot of effort into actually locating me. I had no established home aside from the streets about which I roamed, and I had no last name that the authorities could attempt to trace. I was virtually invisible.

Taking the stolen staff and holding it before me, I gazed upon it with glee and pride. There was strength in this…thing. I knew that for a fact. I just had to find a way of getting it to cooperate with me. And the longer I had it under my control, the easier such an achievement would become. I would learn the things that made it tick, and it would piss me off more times than what I could be bothered to count.

Such is life with an inanimate object.

I gave the golden Millennium Item a twirl around my fingers before returning it to its spot. I had to try very, very hard not to make a 'like a boss' comment about that little trick. It was almost painful, but I would've had to punch myself had such a thing been uttered. Granted, I would've laughed like a fool before doing so, and in a way, it would've been completely worth it.

Shoving my hands back into my pockets like they had been a while ago, I rounded the corner feeling pleased with the cool fall breeze that lifted my hair from my shoulders with little to no trouble. My attention, though, was drawn hastily from the gentle wind to what my eyes now beheld only a good couple of meters away. My face lost its contented expression and sanity left me: the old man from about two nights ago was outside his little store/home, sweeping the stoop.

A wicked grin shrouded my face in darkness as I watched him from the solace of the building's corner, the brick shielding me from potentially being spotted. My mind wandered back and forth from reality and his memories, wondering then if he could even remember the encounter. If he did, it didn't seem to be on his mind since he seemed to be just as pleased with the beautiful late-autumn weather as I'd been.

Thoughts of coming up to him to learn if he truly would recall 'meeting' me crossed my mind, twirling around my brain as I pondered what could happen if I did so. He had no weapons aside from the broom, so it's not like he could kill me or anything. Unless he was a deadly ninja master with that cleaning utensil of his, which was a bit doubtful, but you never know.

Other than the ninja possibility, there really was no way that I could do anything but benefit from this. Grinning at the encouragement, I started to push away from the wall and start over to him, but stopped immediately when the boy from the photos I'd seen in the house erupted from the front door with a look of horror and puzzlement upon his face. I stood and watched as he frantically spoke to his grandfather, wondering what could have possibly made him freak out like this. _Well, he is a teenager after all. It's probably nothing._

That thought vanished when the same expression appeared on the man's face and all color faded from his skin. He froze, dropping the broom and allowing it to fall to the ground, bouncing a time or two before lying still, subdued by the tension in the atmosphere.

The two hurried back into the house, the door closing loudly behind them. I was left there alone in the street aside from the wind, wondering to myself what could've just gone on. The unexpected and rapid change from normality to what appeared to be dread sent my mind reeling, searching any information on them that I had to be able to figure out what just happened here.

I had nothing.

_Except their Millennium Item. The Millennium Puzzle could be at the bottom of this. Couldn't it?_ Encouraged by the possibility and my own curiosity, I jogged over to the shop/house. I had to find a way in that wouldn't give my presence away, like a window or something. As my eyes darted everywhere, I noticed an open window up on the second floor. It would be a pain in the arse to get to, but it would work. Assuming I could find some handholds to get onto the roof.

Knowing that I didn't have a whole lot of time, I made quick work of finding some randomly placed cracks in the building's outer walls. Digging my fingers in as best I could, I ignored the pain of using only my fingers to hurl myself up the wall to the next set of tiny cracks. The being's voice erupted in my thoughts, almost making me lose my miniscule hold. _"Use the variscite. It will prove to be much easier, my pet." _

I snarled, furious at the demeaning name, but said nothing about it or his suckish suggestion. I'd forgotten about the gloves for the most part; why care about the stones if I couldn't do anything with them? Apparently, this moronic voice had somehow missed the multiple hints I'd been throwing regarding the variscite. He didn't seem to realize I had no clue what it was except for the two or three things that I'd known by instinct. I was still astounded that I'd known _anything_.

Ignoring the man and focusing on my climbing again, I dragged myself up another painful stride. Holding on feverishly to the wall with my right hand, I threw my left up onto the shingles, grabbing the first one that I touched. Grinning at my nearing accomplishment, I braced my toes on the wall and grabbed at another shingle with my opposite hand. With a final few steps and yanks on the building, I found myself standing up on the Game Shop roof.

Not caring if anyone had seen me, I treaded over to the open window, sliding it open the rest of the way before slipping in without a sound. The makings of a teenager's bedroom surrounded me; the only thing that didn't fit was the fact that it was reasonably clean. _This must be that kid's room, the kid with the Millennium Puzzle. Interesting…_

I touched the bedpost, and, having sensed the boy's presence immediately, confirmed my assumption. A name also struck me: Yugi. Yugi Moto. My mind's eye now had a name to go along with the innocent face. A face that had no idea who had broken into his home for the second time and was currently sitting up in his room.

Removing my hand from the piece of furniture, I wandered as silently as possible over to the door. After peeking past the doorframe and making certain that the hallway was clear, I left his room and found my way to a staircase leading to the main floor. I couldn't see anyone, but I could hear their voices coming from the living room.

Their voices were a decibel above whispers, so I had to practically hold my breath just to be able to hear them at all. I recognized the first voice as the taller of the two Yugi's…which was odd. _There's not two of them. So, who the hell is this guy?_ "Don't look at me. I didn't do anything that could've caused this to happen."

"Well, there's not really anyone else who could've gotten you your own body, Pharaoh." The next speaker was Mr. Moto, Yugi's grandfather (so far, he was the only one that I knew most everything about. Which wasn't helpful). _Did…did he just call the tall guy 'pharaoh'?_ I scrunched my face up in utter confusion at the name, staring down the steps at the floor as my mind tried to figure it out. All I got was a big question mark.

A sweet but strong voice was next, coming through to back up his grandfather. "Grandpa's right, Pharaoh. Nobody I can think of would have any reason to get you out of the Millennium Puzzle and even give you your own body!" Despite the tone of his voice, it was simple to tell that he was merely puzzled and possibly even a little afraid.

"The only problem with me having done this," The one called Pharaoh's voice was still calm, though he was basically being interrogated. "If sharing a body with Yugi had bothered me that much, then don't you think I would've done this a long time ago? Why wait until now?" It took all my willpower not to snort with laughter at his way of wording his defense statement. It was really hard not to take that in a very wrong way, but I shook my head and tried to brush it off so I wouldn't be caught.

When I really started to think about what he said, it lost the creepy meaning that I'd once thought of and I realized something: I'd been right before, there _were_ spirits within some of the Millennium Items. I _had_ heard someone growling in anger at me from the Millennium Ring. However, I didn't think that there was a spirit held within the Millennium Rod—perhaps connected to it, but not like the other two.

A small silence passed between the three of them as the defendant's words sunk into his prosecutors' minds. "…I guess that's true," Yugi admitted quietly, his tone now showing his apology. This problem wasn't solved yet, though, and everyone obviously knew it. "But that doesn't explain how you have your own body. If anything it rules out our only suspect!"

"What about Pegasus? He still has a bone to pick with you, doesn't he?" Mr. Moto (the gray-haired one, not the tiny one) inquired thoughtfully, doing his best to think of any and all of the enemies that his grandson and his friends had dealt with over the years. I erased the new name from my mind, knowing by the silence that came after it that this wasn't the perpetrator.

During the silence, I could almost imagine Yugi shaking his head before stating, "No, it wouldn't be him. We sorted out everything with Pegasus quite a while ago." I heard the boy let out an aggravated groan, the sound followed by footsteps. They were coming towards the stairs. Stepping back quickly into the shadows of the hallway, I stood breathless as Yugi's form appeared at the bottom of the steps. He was facing me only slightly and his eyes were closed due to his obvious headache.

I knew that if he were to open his eyes right now, he would see me. But I couldn't move, I was fixed in that one spot because of what I saw hanging solemnly around his throat: the Millennium Puzzle. The ancient, golden relic was so close to me that if I could almost feel the cold metal on my fingers. My thoughts and heart raced in time with the other as visions of the pyramid resting serenely in my grasp flooded my brain. _I've stolen one. I can steal another just as easily._

"Yugi," The spiky-haired teen turned around to face his look-alike and his grandfather, his gaze never meeting mine. I allowed my own eyes to fall closed as I let out a short sigh of relief that I hadn't been discovered. Upon opening them, I saw that Yugi had gone back into the living room, having left the bottom of the staircase. Pharaoh continued speaking then. "If I'm no longer bound to the Puzzle, do you think that means that I'm not the only spirit to receive his own body?"

Another silence, this one heavy with dread. "…You don't think…" Yugi trailed off slowly, but it wasn't hard to guess that the Millennium Ring was on his mind as well. Maybe even he who was bound by the mind to the Millennium Rod. My interest in both of those Items couldn't have been higher, for it seemed that these two spirits were of a more deadly nature than most dared to dance with.

"…I don't know if this will help any, but there was a strange girl who broke into the shop a couple of days ago." I could almost hear the two teens' minds snapping into alertness at Mr. Moto's new tidbit of information. My own brain was almost astounded that he was bringing me into this. "When I first saw her, I thought that she was just another mentally unstable homeless girl that had gotten into the shop. I learned quite fast that she was much more dangerous than your average hobo, though."

"What did she do, Grandpa? Did she hurt you? Did you get her name?" Yugi spoke at a rapid speed, his words spilling over one another in his concern for his close relative. One of his questions had caught me off-guard: a name. Had I given him my name? I didn't think that I had, but I couldn't remember. If I had, would that man remember it?

I stood in an uneasy silence as the senior continued his story. "I don't think she ever said her name, Yugi—" _Thank you, karma! _"—and as for injuring me, no, she didn't…and I don't think that she really meant to. She seemed very confused and almost lost, maybe even a tad lonely, if I do say so myself. But there was something very odd about her.

"When I came down to see what all the fuss was about, I saw her running her fingers across the furniture and touching the picture frames in a very intricate way. It was as if she were really concentrating on finding something. She was also…well, it _looked_ like she was…_glowing_ as well. Not like you'd think a an apparition would, but something like…like a gem would after being under a black light. And it happened again when I came to lead her out, but she grabbed onto me instead.

"She touched my forehead, and I…" He trailed off, and based by the scurrying of feet and the sudden squeak made by the couch, I could tell that the exhaustion of the incident had struck him again. He was silent for a moment, gathering his wits and trying to tie together what little he could actually recall from that moment on to when I'd left him. "…I'm not entirely sure _what_ she did, but all I know is that all my energy was gone afterwards. And I couldn't stop thinking about…"

His voice cracked slightly, and all three of us (me, Yugi, and Pharaoh) gave an educated guess at what he was speaking of: his wife's funeral. The old couch squeaked again when another person sat down, probably to comfort the grieving old man. I felt a sting of pity for him, but I wasn't about to rush down the steps and beg forgiveness for my actions. The renewed pain would pass in time.

I heard Yugi begin to ask a question, but my mind was yanked from their conversation when a chill raced down my spine. _"Do you, dear creation, know the answer to their predicament? Have you pieced together what they all have had contact with that could've had the capability of giving a spirit a physical body?"_ The deep, gravelly voice's questions were pounded into my head as if by a hammer. He seemed so loud all of a sudden; for a moment, I wondered if the three downstairs could hear him like I could.

Assuming that the previous thought was foolish, I shook it from me head and focused instead on that which the entity had brought up. _Do I know? Should I? _I could almost hear my brain buzzing as it tried to piece a bunch of random crap together, but all it really came up with was…well, that it had no freaking clue. Whispering quietly, I gave my answer to the voice, "Are you going to be pissed if I say 'I don't know'?"

All was silent for a moment, but then the male apparition returned to my mind and, after giving a small, amused chuckle, his voice boomed within my brain again. _"Silly child, you truly don't know? It's your variscite. You've had at least the tiniest bit of contact with the three spirit-wielding Items, and now all three are running rampant. So, you see, even if you don't know how to control it, its powers will still be activated." _To be perfectly honest, I really wasn't sure if that was such a good thing. I mean, really, if I thought the wrong thing when I was walking down the street, the building to my right might just decide to explode because it thought that's what I wanted.

No. Just…no.

I was about to make a comment about the green stone to the giver of all kinda of crappy news when I realized something: the trio downstairs had been awfully quiet for a long, long time. I held as still as possible, trying to listen for anything down there, but heard nothing. _…Did they leave? Or…_ "Did they hear you?" I glanced around as I whispered, hoping to see some sort of physical…thing that would tell me I was actually talking _to_ something.

Nothing crossed my line of sight. However, the voice did sound again. With more bad news. _"No, but they did hear you." _It was then that another cold breeze ripped threw me, signifying that the flaky entity had left me once again to face possible danger on my own. I scowled inwardly at his nerve, but didn't linger on it for very long. I had more pressing matters at hand, thanks to that jerk.

I knew then that they hadn't left, but were waiting to hear more, just like me. After a moment of silence from both sides, Pharaoh (It was hard to get used to calling him that) was the first to voice the one question that was currently on all of their minds, "…What in the name of Ra was that?" _…This is your pilot speaking. Please sit down on the couch while I escape out this window. Have a nice day._

Even though the thought of making a hasty retreat was tempting, the idea was wiped from my brain. "I probably forgot to turn my radio off," Yugi theorized, his feet making little scuffing noises as he headed over to the steps, "I'll be right back." Hearing his stocking- clad feet begin to hurriedly pound up the stairs, I took a hurried step back, hiding in the shadow of the hallway. He was going to have one big surprise when he got closer.

When he came into sight, my eyes were drawn right to the Millennium Item swinging back and forth from the chain around his neck. It glittered even in such low lighting as this; it was almost as captivating as the Millennium Ring had been in the early morning sunlight. I knew right then and there that I wasn't leaving until I had at least touched that pyramid of ancient gold. No matter what.

As he entered the hall a bit more, he stopped suddenly, staring down at the floor by my feet. Knowing that my cover was blown, I rushed forward and grabbed the short-ish teen, covering his mouth instantly and picking him up from the ground so that his feet couldn't pound on the floor. Bracing my back against the wall, I kept my vice-like grip tight on him as he thrashed about in surprise and fear.

I had been thinking that he would get tired eventually and stop fighting, but as time went on and he didn't even weaken, I began to wonder. If the variscite could bring up repressed memories, it probably could craft fake ones. I could use the variscite to trick him into thinking that he was somewhere else right now, some place he considered safe and homely, that way he'd quit his struggling and I wouldn't have to worry about alerting the two downstairs.

The hard part: figuring out how the hell I was going to pull that off.

Keeping my hand on his mouth, I closed my eyes and tried to think of something, anything, that he might find reasonably believable. Settling on a card game with his friends like in the other memory, I projected the multiple scenarios into his mind—or, at least tried to. I wasn't sure if it was working; I didn't want to open my eyes to see if the variscite was glowing for fear of losing my focus. But then, Yugi's feet slowed, and eventually stopped kicking.

Opening one reluctant eye, I saw that the variscite was indeed glowing faintly, drawing a smile from my lips. Glancing at Yugi's face, my gaze was met with a calm, serene expression. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, and a cheerful little smile rested on his lips. The sight almost made me feel a little bad for the poor boy, being robbed of something as important as the Millennium Puzzle.

The thought made me stop and think. This boy had appeared kind in the pictures that I'd touched earlier; he didn't appear deserving of this crime. From what I could tell, he loved his friends very much and was a gentle soul. I wasn't sure; I already had one Millennium Item, should I take another? _Should I do what that voice wants me to and take the Puzzle, or let Yugi go now while I haven't done much of anything except scare him a bit?_

While I was still thinking, I must've done something stupid because I ended up in one of Yugi's memories with no idea how I found it. Or what it was going to be about. When colors and shapes flooded the white cell that had imprisoned me, I found myself yet again in Yugi's room. The only light was coming from a bright lamp sitting on top of a desk, the single bulb casting eerie shadows all across the room.

However, these misty black figures didn't seem to bother memory-Yugi, who was leaning intently over something on his desk. At first, I figured that it would be a project for school or homework that was due bright and early the next morning. But as I approached, it turned out instead to be the makings of the Millennium Puzzle.

For a moment, I was a tad confused; why was the Puzzle in pieces? Yes, puzzles came in pieces because that was the point of the _game_, but this wasn't the same thing. This was an ancient relic from freaking Egypt! How in the world did Yugi get his hands on it? There was only one thing I was completely sure of, though: That kid had spent a hell of a lot of time on that thing. It was only missing a piece or two now.

Sitting down on the boy's bed, I watched intently as he excitedly pushed the final piece into its designated spot, the entire room erupting in bright light when he did so. I sprung to my feet, shielding my eyes from the blinding whiteness; when the light faded, I slowly lowered my hands, but only enough that I could see what had happened. There, standing straight and tall before me, was the other Yugi, the taller one that everyone kept calling 'Pharaoh' for whatever reason.

He stood there with his eyes closed, holding the powerful Puzzle in his hands as if it were holy water. When he opened his eyes, he seemed surprised at his surroundings, if not then pretty puzzled (no pun intended). It was right about then that the colors leaked from my vision and I was cast from Yugi's mind and back into the shady light of the desolate hallway.

Yugi still hung limply in my arms, that sleep-like expression still residing contentedly upon his features. It was then that I began to feel a little sick. My irresolute mind was whirling, going over my main two options: Take the Millennium Puzzle now and get out of there, or leave it and go. However, there was a third that sort of merged the two: Leave now, clear things up a bit more regarding the Puzzle, then come back and get it.

So far, the third was proving to be the most appealing path to take.

Feeling fairly content with my decision, I moved to set Yugi down on the ground. His feet touched the floor silently, his mind still locked in the 'trance' that I'd put him under. I didn't think to hold the Millennium Puzzle still as I laid him onto the floor, and it became a big problem very fast. As his limp body met the floor, the angle that I'd been holding him at caused the Item to roll to the side. The chain was just long enough to allow it to thud loudly onto the floor.

I crouched there completely still. There was no way that the two downstairs couldn't have heard that; in the silence, it was like a freaking bomb had gone off. I heard footsteps move briskly over to the stairs, however, no feet tromped up them right away. "Yugi? Are you all right?" Pharaoh's voice echoed up the steps in an eerie fashion. It didn't help that, even though he currently had no known weapon, I had an uneasy feeling about him.

Knowing that when Yugi didn't reply he'd come bounding right up, I set Yugi down the rest of the way and bolted for the window I'd come in through. The sudden sound of my pounding feet alerted Pharaoh to foul play, and he dashed up the stairs in a hurry. I heard him exclaim Yugi's name with a touch of horror to his tone, but didn't stop to wait for what he'd do.

I sprung through the window with a lot more skill than I would've originally thought possible, and was pretty darn proud that I hadn't tripped over the windowsill. I paused at the edge of the roof, wondering if there was a good way to go about getting back off the roof, but Pharaoh was still in pursuit of me. From what I could hear, he'd just entered Yugi's room and would be upon me any moment now.

Standing up again, I leaped from the roof, throwing any worry regarding landing aside. Bending my knees at the proper time allowed the shock to be absorbed correctly, and besides, it had only been about a nine or ten-foot drop. Not as bad as it looked from up on the building. Crouched there on the ground, I felt pretty darn accomplished.

Knowing that the official holder of the Millennium Puzzle could very well still be on my tail, I propelled myself forward from my stooped position and took off running. It wasn't fear the drove me to run, but the sheer force of the adrenaline pumping through my blood at the moment. Even thinking of how close I'd just come to obtaining a second Millennium Item—I still wasn't entirely sure why I wanted them, but whatever—sent a sense of euphoria throughout my soul.

Rounding the corner of the brick wall I'd hid behind earlier, I gripped the Millennium Rod in my fist to reassure myself that I hadn't accidentally dropped it back in the house. I didn't have anywhere to put it besides in my belt loop like Marik had, but I always worried that I would end up losing it somewhere on the street. It was a risk that I really didn't want to have to take.

I waited there for a little while, waiting to see if anyone would give chase. After leaning there for a good five or six minutes and hearing nothing but my own breathing and the sounds of passing cars, I felt content in assuming that Mr. Moto and Pharaoh were busy tending to Yugi rather than going after me. Which was fine by me.

They would learn quite fast that Yugi wasn't harmed in the tiniest bit—scared, maybe, but not injured or robbed. Figuring that it would be a waste of time to just stand there, I pushed off of the wall and started walking, the Millennium Rod back in its place and my hands now in my pockets. I could feel the metal bumping against my leg as I walked, which comforted my solitude-ridden heart for whatever reason.

Trying to keep my mind off of the silence enveloping me, I went over what I'd learned so far instead. Yugi had gotten his hands on the Millennium Puzzle somehow, maybe from Ryou Bakura's father. Ryou had said that his father found it in Egypt and brought it back; there was a chance that they were good enough friends for his father to have picked up something special for Yugi. Nevertheless, it had come to him in pieces, and he'd been clever enough to be able to put it back together, releasing the spirit trapped within.

He'd spent quite a long time with it from what I could tell; their strong bond was evident to my senses without needing to use the variscite. It was the kind of companionship that I longed for, the kind that would destroy you if lost. It was a silly want, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it. I felt so alone in this strange new world. It was…

I wasn't even sure.

Relief came close to flooding me when my thoughts were drawn from my solitude to my rumbling stomach. This problem wasn't quite as hard to fix; I remembered seeing a little nice little group of shops not too far away from here, and one of them had been selling some food. I couldn't remember what anymore, but that didn't really concern me. It was food, and that was all I needed to know.

It didn't take very long to find the market-like assortment of miniature stores. There weren't many people wandering around, which would make swiping something without being noticed a tad difficult. However, my mind wasn't fully registering what the consequences of stealing something like a single fruit would be, so the thought of being seen didn't bother me all that much.

Wandering almost carelessly amongst the shops, all of them lined up fairly close together on the street, I looked around at all of them in curiosity. Bright colors surrounded me, their patterns and hues illuminated almost beautifully by the autumn sunlight. There was a serene breeze blowing through the crisp air today, so every now and then one of the store banners would wave at me in a manner that could only be described as friendly.

I paused at one shop, this one blanketed with different shades of yellow fabrics. There were a few crates with vegetables and fruits sitting unattended, the man running the joint having turned to fix one of the banners that had come untied during the last little blast of wind. Seeing this as good of an opportunity as any, I closed the distance between the stand and myself with a bit of a leap, snatching a fresh-looking tomato. Pivoting on my heel, I pretended that nothing had happened and continued on my way quite calmly.

When I was a good block or so away from the market and no one had decided to make a scene, I glanced at the vegetable. Casting it a triumphant grin, I brushed a speck of black from its skin before sinking my sharp incisors into the soft red flesh. It wasn't as good as the muffin that Ryou had bought me, but I'd found my own way to get it and that made it taste a bit better.

A few short blocks passed by beneath my feet and I came upon a small park, a different one than what I'd woken up in. Taking another bite of the cool vegetable, I crossed the street and entered the park on a whim. It seemed quaint and lonesome, but in a good way. It was the kind of place that needed love, yearned for the warmth of life to touch it.

Having drawn me in with ease, I meandered about the trees and paths a while before leaping up to perch on a bench and finish the rest of my meal in comfort. Chewing slowly and thoughtfully, I did all that I could to make very small bite last as long as I could get it to, even if the slimy paste that it would become after a little while was a bit repulsive. Like I'd told myself before, it was food; therefore, it was good enough for me.

A group of people passed me on the paved trail sitting before the bench, most of them ignoring me for the most part. They seemed to be walking in secluded pairs, each one consisting of a boy and a girl; they seemed to only be paying attention to one another. The girl held tightly to her pair, looking up at him with a shine in her eyes that I had never seen before. It was…odd.

For whatever reason, I felt a touch of jealousy rise up in my soul, but I didn't know why at all. Maybe it was because I had no one, and she had both him and all her friends. But I could survive in the world alone, couldn't I? Lots of other people did it, and some of them turned out okay. _Who am I kidding? I don't even know what friendship is and yet I crave it. If that's not pathetic, I don't know what is._

It was a tad humiliating to confess this to myself. I didn't like feeling this empty inside; it was a hunger that I couldn't fix with a tomato. Within me there was a yearning to share my dark nature with another, preferably someone who wouldn't fear the homicidal part of my soul. Deep in my heart in a place that no one but me could ever hope to reach, I wished for someone I could be a thief with, someone I could wreak havoc with, someone I could murder and laugh with. Someone who would want to kill me, but wouldn't because he liked his world better with me tainting it.

Another cold breeze sliced through the fabric of my long-sleeved, black-with-green-hems shirt; I rubbed my arm with my free hand, the friction doing basically nothing to heat me back up. _"You will surely fail me if you have a companion, little fool. If you yearn for something to hold fast to, remember this: I will be with you always, even after the world has passed away by your hand."_

I frowned slightly at his words. What was I going to fail to do? And why did he want me to destroy this world if I hadn't even been here long enough to decide if I hated it as well? Still, knowing I did have one 'person' made me feel a bit better; I had _somebody_. I couldn't help but want something more, though. It was selfish, I knew it was and it made me sick, but I just couldn't stop myself.

I wanted someone who would stand beside me, not order me around from Ra knows where.

A twig snapped somewhere behind me, interrupting my thoughts. Swiveling around quickly to see what made the sound, I stared at the trees behind me, waiting and watching for any kind of movement. Scuffling and the makings of a hushed argument found their way to my ears, but no one could be seen.

"Hey!" I shouted over the next brush of soft wind, the gentle chill making my dark hair rise almost gracefully from my face. The sweet smell of the fall, however, did nothing to cool the heat of my anger at being watched. "I know you're over there, so you may as well get over here and start explaining before I come over there and kick your arse! Now, make your choice."

I sat there silently glaring at the bushes and trees behind me as I waited for whoever was hiding from me to come out. No one came. My patience and self-control were both starting to fail me. "C'mon! Quit being a pansy and get out here!" I snarled in aggravation, my temper flaring like a wild fire having been set loose in the forest. Usually, it wouldn't be so out of hand, but it was hard to control when I would rather be alone than deal with some stalker.

"We are _not_ pansies!" A teen on the shorter side wearing a green jacket over a yellow shirt came into view from within a bush, followed by another boy with shorter green hair. The taller of the two, the one who'd spoken, sported a red hat that covered his brown hair and purple bangs. He gestured towards his accomplice before speaking again in a one that was quite matter-of-fact, "Well, he is, but I'm not!" This earned him a smack to the back of the head.

The lime-haired kid scowled fiercely at his companion, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose before stating bluntly, "Oh, please. Rex, you were the one who was afraid to go over and talk to her!" I recoiled a bit at such a statement; what the _hell_ where they talking about? Rex's face, however, lit up with a bright red hue at the accusation.

He attempted to hide it by snarling with rage at the apparent bug-worshipper, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly and turning his face away, "That's a complete lie and you know it, Weevil!" The two of them bickered on and on like that for a good five or six minutes with me sitting there as puzzled as could be.

Glancing back and forth between the two of them as their argument progressed, a realization struck a sense of disgust in my stomach. "Hold on a minute," Interrupting them, I cocked my head to the side and inquired tentatively, a bit afraid of what I might get as a reply, "…Have you been following me?" Both boys turned and looked at me, surprised that I'd said something. Maybe they'd forgotten I was still there.

Rex and Weevil glanced at each other before Weevil decided to answer for the both of them. A grin was slapped onto his face as he started to walk over to me, swiftly followed by the brown-haired one who kept smiling at me strangely. "Well, I guess that depends on your definition of the word 'follow'. However, we have been walking in the same direction as you for the past couple of hours, if that answers your question, princess." _…The hell did he just call me?_

I glowered psychotically at Weevil for the name; turning away from the both of them, I raised the vegetable that was still in my hand. I continued to stare at it as I stated heatedly, "Not a princess, kid. I'm a criminal by all definitions, but you're being a _royal_ pain in my neck." I took an exaggerated bite of the tomato, enjoying the way the flesh peeled from the meat.

For a moment, a new thought swept across my mind: If I craved a companion, would one of them do? I turned to glance back at the two, but astonishment struck me when they had disappeared. Turning slowly back around, trying to process how they could've left without my noticing, I was startled to see Weevil sitting right beside me on the bench.

I jumped slightly at his closeness, only to bump into Rex, who was sitting at my left. "So," Rex cast me a bright smile, his cheeks still flushed with a soft pink, "If you don't like that name, what should we call you?" _No. They aren't what I'm looking for. _It was a sad thought, but they weren't criminals—stalkers, apparently, but nothing more. They weren't a flaw upon the face of the earth like I was.

Leaping from between them on the bench, I shoved my free hand into my pocket before starting to walk away from them. Not sure what made me actually turn back to them, but I did. The two stalkers were staring after me unblinking, as if they were trying to figure out whether they should follow me or not. Scowling a bit, I let out an aggravated sigh through my nose before muttering coldly, "If you really must know, it's Kushoku."

Spinning back around on my heel, I started towards the streets where I could lose myself in the asphalt and brick, drown my hated solitude in acts of thievery and vandalism. Possibly even find someone unworthy of the life they'd been given and strike judgment down upon them. In my dreams, I'd often find a homicidal man painted up like a clown; he'd often stand by my side as our victim was mutilated, eventually bleeding to death before our dark gazes.

But that was only in my dreams. You don't find killer clowns on the street all that often.

As I turned to go down another section of the street, my eyes drifted back to scan the alley I'd taken. I was unsure why I'd felt the need to look back, but I was glad that I had. If I had not, then I would've had no idea that I was still being followed by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Irritation surged within at the sight of them; I stopped and stared at them, seeing that they were too busy arguing in whispers to grasp that I'd caught them. I probably would've taken notice of them sooner, but they'd been clever and had stayed back a ways, which also explained how I hadn't detected them earlier in the day.

Rex was the first to look at me; he didn't completely register that I was staring at them, so he went back to fighting with Weevil. Three seconds went by before he did a double-take, punching Weevil in the shoulder and pointing me out to him afterwards. When the green-haired teen saw me as well, he cast me a sly grin and a creepy, finger-twiddling wave. "Hey there, princess…This is ironic, isn't it, us going in the same direction again?"

My face remained void of emotion as I swiveled around to stare straight at them, pausing a moment before stalking towards them slowly, threateningly. I didn't feel much anger anymore, mainly frustration that they couldn't take a hint. Halting before the two shorter teens, I stared them down before reminding the both of them in tone that was a decibel above a harsh whisper, "If you've been on my tail all day, then I'm sure you saw me break into that shop. Keep this up," My gaze turned a bit more pointed, carving into their eyes as if I strived to gauge them out, "and I'll be sure to pay you a visit as well."

A small silence passed between the three of us. Our eyes were locked in a fierce battle of wills, mine verses theirs. Despite being outnumbered two-to-one, I held no fear for them in my heart. Why should I? They couldn't do anything to harm me; it was them that should be running right about now. But here the two delinquents stood, both sets of eyes locked on me as they thought over my warning.

Weevil was the first to recover, but in all honesty, his response wasn't like anything I would've expected. He blinked once before wondered aloud in a tone that made me think he might just be agreeing to leave me the freaking hell alone, "You're right there, we did see you," The insect-adorer shot me that same perverted smile as before, a grin that I was learning to be pretty easy to hate seeing. "You been treating Yugi to some nasty fun these past couple days or something?"

Something snapped in my head, the sound almost deafening to my mind's ear. Snarling viciously at his degenerate words, I slammed the rest of the tomato into his face, the force strong enough to knock him over backwards. Glowering loathingly down at him, I watched as he peeled the squishy vegetable from his face and flung it away with disgust.

Remembering Rex then, I dragged my eyes deliberately to look at him; as soon as his eyes met mine, I took the Millennium Rod from my side and unsheathed the blade hidden within the handle. Seeing that I was pissed and meant business, Rex raised his hands in submission, his face starting to turn red again when I began inching towards him. "Wait, wait, wait, wait! _He_ said it, not me! I only wanted to know your name!"

Keeping the Millennium Rod tight in my enraged grip, I searched Rex's eyes for anything that would indicate that he was lying to me. If I found something, I didn't plan to hurt him; the blade was just to make him squirm. I'd probably just tell him off and give him a smack on the head with the Rod. But I saw nothing that told me he wasn't telling the truth.

Part of me still didn't believe it, however.

Knowing there was only one way to know for sure, I reached out steadily and pressed my palm to Rex's forehead, the simple touch causing his face to burn a bright fire-red. Closing my eyes to help myself focus, I wandered amongst his thoughts, probing efficiently now since I knew what I was looking for and how to separate that specific topic from the rest of the options that could be found within another's mind.

It didn't take very long for my investigation to be over; Rex had been honest with me. From what I could tell, he didn't share Weevil's immensely perverted nature. They were both stalking me, yes, but Rex wasn't thinking of what I looked like bound and gagged in his closet, which was enough for me to feel a bit less disdain at the sight of his presence.

Taking my hand from his forehead, I grabbed him by the shoulder and was prepared to catch him if he fell to the ground, but he merely staggered from side to side for a moment or two. When he seemed to come to again, he looked at me with confusion at what I'd just done, but didn't seem to have the courage to ask about it. I looked him up and down another time to be certain that he wasn't going to keel over before releasing his shoulder and turning to leave.

As I approached the street I'd been on before, I cast a half-glace back at Rex and Weevil out of curiosity. Weevil was sitting up now as he picked little pieces of the slimy red vegetable off of his face and glasses, but there was a small, amused smirk on his lips, as if my reaction had pleased him somehow. The thought made me shudder inwardly a little.

Rex was looking down at him with a bit of rage apparent on his features, even visible in the way his hands were resting at his sides. He said nothing as he stared at his accomplice, barely even moving. I could only assume that he was pissed at Weevil for the comment that had set me off like that. A touch of pity whisked over my soul like a desert breeze carried the sand across the vast dunes. But I didn't linger on it for very long.

I continued on then, knowing that it wouldn't be long until I saw the two of them again. The knowledge drew an exasperated sigh from my lips, the sound seeming incredibly loud due to the lack of other noises around me. On this side of the neighborhood, it was only me and the pavement. I was beginning to become used to the idea that it would always be that way.

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><p>Hooray! I finally finished it after staying up way too late on school nights to work on it! XD Yeah, I need to sort my priorities out a little bit. Nevertheless, I hope you liked it and thank you for reading it :)<p>

I also wanted to add that if Kushoku's personality seems to be inconsistent, I apologize. It's hard to keep her the same when I'm mainly relying on her thoughts to give the chapters length and the fact that she's currently by herself (she won't be alone for much longer though :D Yami Marik is about to make his debut (by the by, I'm going to be calling him Melvin 'cause it's easier for me to keep him from getting screwed up with Marik if I use that name). Also, for anybody who noticed, I know that I've been spelling Yugi's last name wrong. I would've gone back and fixed it, but I didn't feel like it so I'm just going to make sure that I fix it from now on lol.

Okie, thanks for reading, and please review!


	5. Chapter 4

**I've been waiting for the chapter for a while now XD. I finally got somebody in there that's going to be sticking around for quite a while. Can't wait to start on the next chapter now! :)**

**By the by, I figured that I may as well let you guys know a couple of things about the story since I couldn't fit everything in the summary (I can never fit anything in there lol). First off, this does take place sometime after the Pyramid of Light movie. Not totally sure when, but somewhere after it. And as for the pairings, I'm kinda going by whatever I come up with for parts XD. I've got Yami BakuraxOC (Kushoku; I've decided to call it Nightmareshipping :3), Spaceshipping (SerenityxMelvin), JoeyxOC (not much, but it's mentioned), and then a bunch of other little parts of other pairing everywhere. But that's the basic stuff lol. **

**I think that's about it. Have fun reading, and please review! I love to hear from you guys :)**

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><p>Chapter 4<p>

The once blue-gray sky was now glittering with bright pinks and reds and yellows as the sun began to take its dive below the horizon. A few of the brightest stars could be seen, but most were blotted out by the fading rays of the sun and the blinding city lights. Stopping there on the sidewalk, I gazed thoughtfully up at the sky; even though pollution was the cause of all the colors, sunsets were still some of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.

It was one of the few things in this world that I'd come to love almost instantly. I couldn't help it, I was a sucker for color no matter what it was. However, rainbows and unicorns didn't strike my fancy. I wasn't into vibrant things in that kind of a way. I liked the little things, details that nobody either noticed or wanted to care about.

For example, a person's eyes weren't all just one shade. There were all kinds of different little specks of diverse hues within those doorways to the soul. I loved to just sit and people-watch, just trying to see if I could count the colors in their eyes as they passed me by. Some that walked by looked at me as if I were nuts, just sitting there and staring at other people as they went about their daily lives. I just thought that it was an interesting way to pass the time.

Glancing up from the cement beneath my feet, I was greeted by the sight of a cold, desolate cemetery. From this distance, the whole place appeared deserted except for the lonely graves and handful of trees that were scattered in an unorganized fashion within the area. A brick wall blocked most of the place from my view, but I was able to see that the metal gate was open a crack.

Picking up my pace, I made a beeline for that entrance. I wasn't entirely sure why, but that place…it intrigued me beyond all reasonable thought. I wanted—no, _had_ to know who was all resting there. It was like I needed to do something for them, wanted to be with them and guard them somehow. Maybe guide them through the vast deserts of the afterlife and help them find heaven.

Either way, it was strange.

I pulled the heavy iron gate open, the old rusty hinges given a loud squeak of protest as it gave way to the unwelcome movement. Stepping onto the fresh green grass, I meandered inside, my breathing quiet and shallow as if I were hoping that I wouldn't disturb someone. Being careful to walk around any and all of the earthy beds, I moved deeper into the heart of the home of the deceased.

As I came around one of the larger trees, my fingers trailing along the bark, I looked up from the ground briefly, only to practically leap out of my skin when I saw someone. Before I could dive behind the tree to avoid being seen, he turned around and noticed at me. I recognized him immediately, but the anxiety didn't leave me. It was Ryou Bakura.

The dark amber-eyed teen smiled sweetly at me, though his eyes betrayed his sadness. He cast me a small wave as a wordless greeting, apparently gesturing for me to come over by him if I wanted. Hesitating for a moment because of the Millennium Rod, I remained motionless. If Ryou had been told by Marik about it being stolen, this unexpected meeting could cause me a whole hell of trouble. But if I turned and fled now, he'd think something fishy was going on and would become wary.

In the end, I locked away my doubts and worries and came up to him slowly, still making sure that I kept my feet from treading over grave sites. Coming to stand by his side, I saw that he was looking down at a tombstone about a yard away from his feet. Dropping to my knees beside the slab of polished red granite, I read the name, Ryou taking a seat on the grass next to me as I did: Amane Bakura.

After staring at the stone for a little while, I dragged my eyed back to Ryou, only to notice then that he didn't have the Millennium Ring with him. _Did he say that he always wears it? _Shaking the Item from my mind and returning to the matter at hand, I let my breath out in a hushed sigh. Speaking in a soft voice—anything louder would've disturbed those sleeping peacefully around the two of us—I looked at the white-haired male before inquiring lightly, "Who is this, Ryou?"

Offering me a small, sad smile, his eyes remained on the grass before the grave. I traced his gaze with my own and found that he was looking at a crisp white letter sitting nestled in the short green foliage. It had the girl's name on it. "She was my little sister." Ryou's tone was as downcast as his face, despite the 'smile'. "She died in a car accident a long time ago. When I was still really upset about losing her, I started writing letters to her in heaven. I got out of the habit when high school started up because I was so busy, but I finally got around to writing her another one. I…I thought it would be nice to bring it and spend a little time with her today…"

He trailed off, his efforts now focusing on playing with the grass at his fingertips. I knelt there, sharing his silence with a touch of shock at his current state. How the loss of one person could affect someone so greatly was a great deal for my mind to process. It was harder when I didn't have someone to compare this situation to. I only had the voice to call my own, and if it left me, I wouldn't mind at all. I might even be glad. _What should I do?_

I moved my hand towards him slightly, hesitated, then continued the motion and gave his shoulder an unsure rub. The simple caress felt awkward and I was unsure if I'd done the right thing, but instinct had told me that some kind of touch would be best. A touch of relief crossed my soul when those gloomy brown eyes blinked with surprise and looked up at me, a true smile crossing his face. Some of the sadness left him and was replaced by thankfulness for my company.

"Thank you, Kushoku," He patted my hand with his a time or two before I took it from his shoulder. The albino's eyes then clouded with confusion. "But what brings you here?" His head was cocked to the right a bit as he asked this, knowing from our last encounter that I wasn't from around here so it was doubtful that I knew anyone in the cemetery.

I hadn't been expecting him to ask me this, but looking back on it, I probably should've really seen it coming. Or at least come up with some kind of an alibi. Sitting there on the grass, my mind raced to think of something that was at least halfway believable. "I, uh…well," _This isn't going well… _"…I was just wandering around town when I saw the cemetery, and they interest me, so…I decided I'd come take a look. Then I saw you, and here we are."

Hopefully Ryou thought that was as plausible and I was hoping it was. Judging by the slight nod of his head and the lack of explanation he asked for, the gentle soul seemed to accept my excuse. Which was partially true, after all. I wasn't sure why I found it hard to lie to Ryou; when we'd first met I hadn't had this much trouble. What was going on with me?

Did it have something to do with him not having his Millennium Ring right now?

But why would that have any effect on me? And why didn't he have it in the first place? Had someone else stolen it? If it had been taken from him, who would've taken it? Had he or she known what great powers hid within its infinite bonds? Would that spirit inside of it make himself apparent to them like he had to both Ryou and me?

Turning from the polished stone back to Ryou, I was about to ask where the beautiful band of gold and mystery had escape to, but was put on hold when its ex-holder began to stand up. "Well," Those dark eyes accompanied a friendly smile of farewell. "I'm really happy to have seen you again, Kushoku, but it's starting to get late and I'd best be getting home."

I didn't give him a worded answer, but cast him a small smile of recognition and a wave as he started to walk off. "Oh!" He stopped abruptly, swiveling halfway back to face me. Digging in his pocket for a moment, he pulled out a small piece of paper and an even tinier pencil (wasn't sure why he had _th_at with him), scribbled something down on it, and came back over to me, holding it out. "My phone number. If you're going to be out on the street a lot, you should have someone to call in case there's an emergency."

Not sure what else to do, I reached up reluctantly and took it carefully from his hand, receiving a sweet smile as well. Returning his kindness with a genuine but slightly astonished smile, I thanked him in a slightly surprised tone, "I'll be sure to keep it with me, Ryou. Thank you." We exchanged another friendly farewell, and Ryou left me sitting all alone in the cemetery.

I sat there and thought about Amane for a little while longer, everything around me in complete silence. But that didn't seem right. If she was there with me and I was staring at her, she'd feel awkward and creeped out. _I should say something. Or something._ It felt a little weird, thinking that way, but now that the thought had crept into my mind, I couldn't get it back out.

It _had_ to be carried out.

Rising steadily to my feet, I brushed that stray grass and dirt from my body before straightening back up and looking down almost tenderly at the grave of Ryou's sister. Letting a small preparatory sigh escape from my lungs, I hoped to myself that no one was eavesdropping as I began my little speech, "Hi, Amane. I know you don't know me, and I technically don't know you either, but…I don't know. I guess I thought it might get a bit lonesome wandering around the way you have to. So…here I am.

"I know your brother, Ryou. He seems like a really nice guy, which you probably already know, being his sister and everything. I met him a couple days ago; he bought me a muffin…I honestly don't know why I'm telling you that. Sorry. Starting over. Again…My name's Kushoku. I don't remember if I mentioned that or not. If you want to know more about me other than that little bit, I don't know if I _could_ actually tell you anything more. Because…well, _I_ don't even know who I am.

"I do know that I've got some guy's voice telling me what I should be doing. It's not like schizophrenia—did you know that 1.5 million Americans have that?—but it's more like there's somebody following me around everywhere. I can't see him, but I can sense that he's there sometimes. The air gets incredibly cold, and there's always this freaky wind that blows like a tornado all around me. I smell something like…rotting flesh too. Something dark. Evil, I guess.

"Sorry. You probably don't want to hear about that kind of thing. What about geology? Did you like that when you were in school? I ask because of these gloves I've got here," I took one of them off, holding it out towards the stone as if I were truly speaking with someone in front of me. "They've got special stones called variscite ground up in them, which must give 'em some kind of powers. Or something, the voice never really explained beyond that.

"I haven't figured out how to do very much with them yet, but I hope that someday I'll be able to. If I can't find someone who knows more about them than what I do—which could very well be absolutely _anybody_, currently—then I guess I'll just have to figure it out on my own. But I should be getting used to doing stuff on my own because of who I am. Don't be scared, but I'm a criminal.

"Before you freak out, just know that I won't hurt your brother; I'm not the kind of person who goes around and kills people just because I want to. Well, I haven't gone and done that _yet_. Either way, I'm more of a judging killer. I wait and see what kind of a person my victim is before deciding if they really will be my victim or not. The choices they made in their lives—like, if some guy decided one day that he was going to beat his wife or his kids, or if some lady abandoned a perfectly good relationship to hunt after an affair—help me decide what to do with them now that they're free to play with me.

"…Sorry. You probably didn't want to hear about…sorry. I'm boring you too, aren't I?" I laughed loudly to myself, feeling as if there really was someone else there with me, giving me strange looks according to whatever I was blabbering on about. Like Amane's eyes were listening to me with cheer. "Sorry, I'm not used to talking to new people, even if you're not right in front of me. You'd think I'd be able to do stuff like that just fine wouldn't you, seeing as I've got that other guy's voice in my head at all hours of the day?

"Nevertheless, I think I've bothered you enough for today—not to mention everyone else here. You're all very tired and want your peaceful rest, I'm sure, so I guess I'll be going. It's nice to have met you, Amane, and your brother too…" I trailed off into a bit of an awkward silence, feeling that that wasn't the 'good-bye' that I wanted to give. It felt like it was missing something, something that would pull everything together and make it seem more whole.

Nothing came to mind that would fix it, though.

Knowing I basically had nothing else to say, I turned from the site of Amane's grave and left the cemetery, wondering as I walked away from it if anyone had heard my 'conversation' with Ryou's deceased sibling. If anyone had, they hadn't made it known in any way. Then again, that wasn't very surprising. If you were to have seen somebody chatting with a tombstone, would you go up and say, 'Hey, are the dead a bit talkative today or something? I can hear them too—oh, wait, no I can't!' and risk pissing them the hell of?

For some reason, I felt a little less alone now. I had Ryou now, but he obviously wouldn't approve of the demeanor that I hid from him. Amane sort of counted; I could go and talk to her about anything and everything that I wanted to and she wouldn't care. She wasn't really…with me, though. Or anyone else for that matter. _Poor Ryou. He must miss her._

Glancing up briefly from the pavement, I was almost stunned to see a building I'd never noticed before. To be honest, I didn't recall any part of this neighborhood; I'd never even seen the cemetery until today. That building, though…it really captured my attention. Using all my willpower, I strived to look away from its tall, hospital-like structure, but I just couldn't ignore it. It was as if there were some kind of force keeping my attention fixed upon that place.

I had to know what it was.

Breaking into a run, I raced down block after block, avenue after avenue, until I finally found my way to that captivating building. It held no real beauty, per se, but there was a dangerousness hidden deep within it, like what you'd feel in the presence of the Boogeyman. Standing motionless before the gates leading up the driveway, I wondered what this place could possibly be. But then I noticed the little plaque a yard or so away from the gate: Domino City Mental Hospital.

_A nut-house? Why do I care about a nut-house?_ I couldn't think of an answer to my own question; all I knew was that I did care, for whatever reason, and it was beyond impossible for me to leave it now. At least, not without going inside and having a bit of a peek around the place first. I might be able to allow myself to leave if I went on ahead and did that.

Being unable to think of any reason why this little field trip could end badly for me (aside from ending up like the psychopaths that were already cooped up in their cells), I gave the gate a bit of a shove. I thought at first that it would be locked at a time like this, and I was quite surprised to find that it, in fact, was not. I paused for a moment, looking up at the huge building that loomed haphazardly before me. It was a threatening sight; this place was a trap for people like me. I could very well be walking into a cage.

But I drove the heavy feeling of anxiety away and started towards the front door.

The double-doors were made of glass, giving me a clear view of the dimly-lit insides of the facility. It appeared that it was currently closed to visitors, due to the lack of proper lighting throughout the whole place, but there were some random lights on for the employees. The only one that I could see, however, was a receptionist working diligently at her desk. Her hair was sandy brown and tied back in a messy bun, her reading glasses perched precariously on her nose. She didn't notice me until I tried the door.

Locked. _Darn. Guess I'll have to do this the hard way._

Before the woman could do anything—neither open the door for me or try to shoo me away—I sent a wild kick into the glass, shattering it with a loud crash and the sound of her shrieking. I tore the bottoms of my jeans a bit on the shards, but other than that I remained unharmed from the incident. "Who are you?" Obviously, the woman wasn't prepared for anything like what her job probably should've demanded of her. Her shrill, fearful voice told me this quite clearly. And loudly. "What do you want?"

Reaching in through the hole I'd made, I undid each of the locks, never taking my eyes from the woman. If she got over her paralyzed state, I had to make sure I knew where she ran so I could come after her. While I shoved the door open, causing broken glass to skate across the floor as I did, I informed her rather matter-of-fact-ly, "I'd really love it if you'd quit your screaming and keep your voice down, miss." I didn't think it was really that much to ask. All I was there for was a quick lookie around and I'd be gone just as swiftly as I'd arrived.

Little Miss Receptionist, on the other hand, was everything but cooperative. "The hell I will!" The woman turned hurriedly in her swivel chair, picked up a phone that sat faithfully beside her, and began to dial. A determined and deadly look crossed her face as she held the phone up to her ear; apparently she thought I'd sit there nice and quietly while she called the cops on me. She couldn't have been further from the truth.

"Don't even think about it," I took a few long fast steps to reach her desk, leaping up onto it when I did. A sharp kick set the phone flying from her hand, and another sent her chair spinning wildly away from the desk, but not before she'd slammed her hand down on a little button. A button I knew would call security. I swore under my breath as I jumped down and back onto the plush carpet.

Walking briskly over to the woman, who was currently too dizzy to stand, let alone figure out what was going on, I sent a hard punch into the side of her face. Her body went limp in the chair, her arms sagging from the chair and her head dropping lazily to one side. A small trail of spit and blood dribbled from her mouth. I watched her shallowly breathing for another moment or two before leaving her to take a look around, keeping my eyes and mind alert for any movement.

The pounding of heavy boots echoed throughout the bleak empty hallways, but they didn't deter me. I could feel the importance of my presence here even if I had no clue why. It was as if there was something here for me, something I had to find. Something that might change my life. _"No, Kushoku. There is nothing for you here. Obey my wishes: leave this place and never think of it again." _The chill tore through my body like a killer's favorite pair of scissors. He seemed a little worried, but why?

"No. You don't control me, and I won't leave. Not until I know what's so special about this building." I could tell by the sudden tension in the air that the entity was clearly unhappy with my flat-out rejection of his order. However, the icy tone never returned to me. Such a notion struck me as incredibly odd, but I did nothing to question it. If he wanted to give me the cold shoulder like a little child and hope I'd comply then, that was fine by me.

Thinking that I'd heard someone closing in on the corridor I was in, I hurried to hide in the darkness of the first room to my right. After closing the door quietly behind me, I leaned up against the wall beside the door and waited, listening for any footsteps. I thought I heard something, but I wasn't sure what it was. Nothing more accompanied the mystery sound.

Since the only light that was currently seeping through into the room was coming from the window in the door, I ran my hands across the wall, searching for any kind of light switch. It took a little while to find it; flipping it on, the storage room I was in was hurriedly flooded with brightness. I glanced around and saw that this was where they kept all of the clothes and other merchandise that was confiscated from the inmates.

Wandering down one of the mini-hallways made by the many shelves, I looked back and forth at the labeled bags and boxes of paraphernalia. I wasn't sure why these things intrigued me so, but I couldn't bring myself to stop searching them for—_Wait. What was that last name?_ I took a couple of steps back and scanned the bags' names, trying to find the one that had caught my attention.

There it was: Ishtar. _Melvin_ Ishtar.

Who the hell was Melvin Ishtar? It couldn't just be circumstantial that they had the same last name because Ryou had said that Marik was from Egypt. Was it possible that Marik had a psychotic relative that had somehow ended up in this place? I guess it was, but that would really depend on how long Marik and his family had been in Domino City. Or if his family was even with him. It's not like either Ryou or Marik had mentioned anything about his family.

But, since he was here, did that mean anything to me? Being cooped up in an insane asylum would have to get old after a while, with no one to kill, no one to talk to, no one at all. And being sent here obviously meant that he was of my nature in more ways than one. _I could go find him. What's the harm in just checking this psycho out for myself? _I wasn't really sure why he caught my eye like he had, but this was a chance to find somebody to stalk and mutilate with, someone who wouldn't get squeamish or feel sickened by my homicidal streaks.

This was the perfect opportunity to find somebody who wouldn't leave me.

Slowly and cautiously, I made my way back to the front desk, being sure to check each hallway as I went along. The frustrated cusses and footfalls of the security people seemed to be coming from every direction now; I had to be extra careful if I didn't want to get caught. Or shot. That was also a very plausible possibility.

Entering the room I'd been in a little earlier, I saw that the receptionist had woken and was now cowering underneath her desk. She stared at me with fear in her eyes, and it was ignited when I started to walk towards the desk. Shrieking loud enough to blow my ear drums out, she skittered from underneath the desk, curling into a ball next to a fake potted plant in the corner of the room instead.

I rolled my eyes slightly at her dramatics, but ignored her for the most part. I had to find the papers that listed which patients belonged in which room; it was the only way I could find Melvin without having to tear through this security-infested facility. I dug wildly through the many drawers, yanking them all the way out of the desk and checking their contents before tossing them across the room.

It took a lot more time than what I would've wished, but I finally found the thick record. I rifled and searched the pages hurriedly, knowing that the guards could be on their way to check the front desk area of the building at any moment. If they showed up and I still didn't know where to look for Melvin, then I would be totally and utterly screwed. However, within a matter of moments, I discovered the room number: Room 126, Ishtar, Melvin.

That was on the other side of the clinic.

_I guess this is where the fun part is gonna come in: sneaking past all those freaking security guys._ After tossing the thick wad of paper in the general direction of the receptionist, I tore out of the entry room and down the first hallway I came across. Numbers and signs flashed by me as I ran, but none of them were the right one. The numbers told me I was heading in the right direction, and that was good enough for me.

One sign hanging on the wall beside a set of double-doors caught my eye, and I had to slide to a quick stop to be able to read what it said. There was an arrow directing towards the doors, and the sign stated, 'Rooms 120-130'. Room 126—and Melvin—would be right past this door. I could no longer feel my heart beating, only a deep sense of suspense, like the feeling you get when you're watching a horror movie and you just know something's going to happen but you don't know what. Then the knife flies through the screen and makes a dent in your forehead.

I, however, was ready for that knife. Shoving the closest of the two doors open, I stepped into the empty, white-walled hallway without a sound. I came to a halt as soon as I entered, allowing the door to come closed behind me, the 'clang' it made when it did seeming incredibly loud. It was almost as if it were another kind of alarm going off, but this one was to alert the patients that there was an intruder in their prison. One like them. One who might get them _out_.

Staring down the corridor, one light bulb flickering with fear, I took note of each of the doors, evenly divided between the two walls. Each one had a small window; some of the inmates had heard the sound of the door slamming behind me and were staring at me with hungry eyes. My eyes drifted slowly over to the closest pair of eyes: dark and black, violent and schizophrenic. The man shot me a sadistic, 'Hey there' grin, but I retorted with a loud growl and a snarl, my eyes bleeding fire.

He got the hint and backed away from his tiny window.

Ignoring the other curious gazes, I rushed over to the room marked as 126, and peeked through the glass. A gasp of horror caught in my throat—no one was in there! Where the hell was he? What was going on? Did they move him to a different room and just hadn't gotten around to changing their records? His possessions were still in the clinic's storage, so they couldn't have allowed him to leave yet. _But where is he then?_

"Hey, you! Stay right there!"

I jumped back from the door and swiveled to face the direction of the doors I'd just come through moments before. A man dressed up in pale green scrubs and white tennis shoes was standing there; from what I could tell, he had no weapons. Our gazes locked, and my heavy, unpredictable glare took a huge chunk out of his confidence. It was the glower you got from a rabid animal right before it tore your throat out.

Taking a threatening step forward, my voice came out suave and cold as a ghoul's breath, "If you don't back the hell up and get out of my way now, you're going to have a serious problem," A deadly smile crossed my lips as he started to comply, taking a step backwards towards the double-doors. He didn't actually leave though. I guess he needed a bit of encouragement.

Lunging forward and taking the man off-guard, I grabbed him by the hand, twisting it back in a way that no one should be able to bend. He cried out in pain and surprise, crumpling to his knees while trying to pry my vice-like grip from his hand. I responded to his attempt by pushing it even farther, being rewarded with a tiny, sickening crack and another shout of agony.

"Let go of me! Please, let go!" I could feel his skin beginning to throb due to the injury I was causing, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for this man. He was helping those he thought were ill in the head, hoping he could make them normal again. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know that there was nothing wrong with these people; no one deserves to be locked in a cage because of something that's not their fault. Because of what they became.

I released the man's arm after giving it a final twist for good measure. He collapsed with a hoarse cry onto his side, cradling his now disfigured hand with the other as he tried to will away the excruciating pain. I wanted to leave him (heck, I'd heal his hand if I could), but I wasn't done with him quite yet. I had to find where Melvin was before I could leave this place, and there was a good chance that this guy might know where he was at.

Dropping onto one knee, I stretched out my hand and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, dragging him up to look me in the face. The evil expression was gone now, replaced instead by one that was without emotion as I spoke, speaking plainly so his mind (which was obviously only focusing on the pain at this moment) could follow along, "Sorry about your hand, Mr. Scrubs, but you asked for it. Nevertheless, now that you're here with me, you're going to tell me something. Okay, pumpkin?"

He forced his eyes open about halfway, looking at me with hurt in his eyes from the injury. It pained me deeply to see an innocent soul in agony that had been caused by my own hands; I wished for a moment that I hadn't done that to him. But I'd had no other option. If he had left, he would've had time to assume that I was looking for Melvin (judging by the fact I'd been looking in his room) and security would swarm Melvin—wherever he was—within a matter of moments.

It had been necessary.

The man's mind was swimming, I could tell, but he was still with me. Nodding very slowly, he closed his eyes again and waited patiently for me to say what I wanted. I hesitated, watching the way that a few little beads of sweat rolled almost invisibly down the side of his face, the way that he panted from the intensity of the throbbing in his wrist. How I wished I could heal him. _But you can't. So finish up and let him pass out._

"All right. I'm looking for—Hey, stay with me now," I tapped his face with my left hand, my right busy holding him up by his shirt. His eyes snapped open with a bit of surprise, his head starting to become fogged as unconsciousness began to set in. I had to make this fast. "Where's Melvin Ishtar? Tell me where he is and you can go to sleep, okay? Tell me and I'll leave." I gave another couple of gentle slaps to get his mind focused on me again before awaiting his answer with patience.

He panted quietly for a moment before closing his eyes and whispering coarsely, "He…He's a dangerous patient…It…got worse lately, so we…put him in solitary confinement," Being unable to use his hands (or unwilling, which was completely understandable), he gestured with his eyes to the right. "Just…just keep going right…down that way and you…you should find him…" He closed his eyes then, and I lowered him to the linoleum floor, being sure to keep his head from banging on the ground.

I started to stand, but my eyes caught a glimpse of the man's pained expression and the pity returned. Crouching back down, I touched my fingers to the man's forehead and closed my eyes. Hoping to put him in the same kind of dream-state that Yugi had been in, I thought of a bright, summer-time nature scene. The wind blew serenely through the trees, a couple of green leaves falling through the air onto a dirt trail, the sound of a small river or creek in the background.

Upon opening my eyes, I smiled; the beginnings of happiness and cheer were beginning to trace themselves on the man's face. Feeling pleased with myself, I rose and stepped out of the hallway, not even noticing the bewildered expressions from the inmates that I'd left. I suppose that girls like me usually didn't come into their mental clinic, beat on an employee, and then start to glow a ghostly green color. Even the schizophrenic man was astonished by what he'd just witnessed, and that's saying something.

Remembering the man's directions, I took off sprinting to my right, taking long and speedy strides. Right about then I wasn't really worried about security any more, having not run into any real problems with them so far. I doubted that they would be able to find me in this huge building. Those thoughts were dashed when shouts of, 'Hey!', 'Stop!', and the like echoed behind me, accompanied by the thudding of heavy boots.

_Darn. Jinxed myself. Somehow. Is that possible? I think so—Shut up and run, brain! Sheesh!_

Casting distracting thoughts aside, I tried to focus on finding another sign that might tell me when I'd get to the solitary-confinement place that the man had told me Melvin was being held in. If I didn't find it soon, the guards might catch me. I didn't even know if they had weapons or not. It would be a miracle if they didn't.

Knowing that if they did have guns they would probably be readying themselves to shoot me, I turned and slammed through another set of doors. My shoulder and hip burned with pain from the impact, but I ignored them; I had to find a way to lock these doors! Anything to slow those guys down! But it didn't appear possible. I was wasting time just standing there with my hands against the door.

_My hands…the variscite!_ I stared at the fingerless gloves, sensing the power that was embedded within them so finely that the green stones weren't even visible. I wasn't sure how I would go about doing it, but I could try to lock the door using them. Letting out a long sigh, I rested my hands on the metal push-to-open handle, closing my eyes to help with my concentration. Not knowing how I was going to even do this, I kept thinking the same thing over and over to myself: _Just don't let them through, just don't let them through, just don'_t—

I was shocked out of my thoughts when a blast of hot air blew my long bangs out of my face, the strands getting caught behind my ear as they tried to fall back when the air disappeared. My eyes shot open, my hands retracting from the metal instinctively. I couldn't believe what was before me; the metal of the doors had _melted_. It was dripping all over the floor, sizzling as it hit the cold tile; it had formed a kind of makeshift lock on the double-doors.

While I was still in awe of what had just happened, I didn't realize that security had caught up with me now. One guy banged into the door with all of his might, the huge 'bang' startling me enough to make me jump back a couple of feet. They continued to pound and pound and pound on the doors, beating on them hard enough to make them quiver and shake, but they still refused to open up. I was safe for the moment.

Turning away from the heavy thumping, I looked down the hallway that I was currently standing in. There were multiple doors on each side like in the other hallway, but these were different. The wood had been replaced by a dark metal, the windows tinted so that barely any light from the hallway could filter through them, and there were little lockable slots that reminded me of mailboxes built into the door. My heart dropped from my chest all the way to my feet. _…These are the solitary confinement rooms…_

It took me a minute to get myself together; here I was, maybe a few yards away from someone who might try to kill me, and yet I was risking my own life and freedom trying to get to him. Why was I doing this, anyway? What did he mean to me? I'd stolen the Millennium Rod from Marik, but he hadn't mentioned anyone named Melvin. He hadn't really mentioned anyone, at that.

Besides, if he was here in a clinic for the mentally ill _and_ in solitary confinement, was there a chance that he could be a danger to me? How would he react to my suddenly showing up here? I mean, was I really just going to walk up to him and say, 'Hey, I got this freaky feeling like I had to come here and get you, so here I am. Let's do brunch, 'kay?' Yes, no one could say 'What the hell's wrong with you?' to that!

But despite all of the doubts in my head, there were positive thoughts and scenarios as well. He could be the companion I'd been yearning for in my dreams, hoping for as I lay in the alleys and the streets trying to ease my restless mind into sleeping. He could help me figure out why I was here, who that voice was in my head and why he wouldn't leave me alone. He could help me to figure out the little quirks that both the variscite and the Millennium Items flaunted, the seemingly-invisible but important things that I didn't know.

I wanted a friend more than anything; he could be that for me. All I had to do was give this a shot. I'd already gone through a lot of trouble to get here, harmed an innocent man, and scared the crap out of a whiny receptionist. How could I turn around and simply leave without even getting a look at the guy? Why should I risk my freedom for someone whose freedom had been taken, and not even do anything to return it to him?

I had to do this. Now.

My throat dry with anxiety and my blood boiling in my veins, I forced my feet to move forward, the sound of the footfalls, although they were hushed, seeming to pound on the floor like the guards on the door. I cast a short glance at each door as I passed by it, wondering how in the world I was going to be able to pick the right one to open. I could tell by the creaking of the metal and the cracking of the wood behind me that I didn't have a whole lot of time, definitely no time for mistakes.

But which door? The tinted windows made it next to impossible to see into the lightless rooms, and even if I could see into them, I'd never seen Melvin Ishtar before in my life. The wood of the doors behind me gave a loud snap; I twisted around and saw that the guards were starting to break through the door. I had a matter of minutes before they'd be able to get through, and they really looked pissed.

Because of my sudden jerking motion, the Millennium Rod fell from my side and landed with a clink on the floor a foot or two away from me. I was about to go and pick it back up, but then I noticed how it was laying there. Despite the wing-like protrusions, it was propped up on its side; the eye that was molded into the expensive gold was staring at the next door to my left. I stared at it as well, wondering if this could mean what I thought it might.

Was this the door?

I knew that there was always a chance that the Rod landing in that way was just a coincidence, but something seemed too right for that to be true. Trusting that the Millennium Rod was telling me which door to choose, I picked the golden object up and moved over to stand before that door. Doubts still clouded my mind, begging me to stop and pay attention to them before I went through with this. However, the security people were almost done with the door, and their next punching bag was a lot less wood and a lot more flesh.

I didn't really want to become a human punching bag, so I put my hands on the door, hoping for a repeat of what happened last time. However, the exact opposite occurred. Instead of melting the door, a cold wind swept over both the door and me, the chill unlike anything I'd ever felt before. When I took my hands from the frostbitten metal door, I had to leap out of the way as the hinges cracked and broke, leaving to door to fall to the ground with a deafening thud.

I hesitated, seeing as no one came out of the room right away after the door fell. Had I been wrong about the door? Worry began to breed within my soul, and I stepped onto the door so I could stand in front of the small room, the space where the door had been now a black hole gaping with awe at the light that was now intertwined with it. As I peered into the room, I was relieved and a little nervous to see a man sitting there._ …Is that Melvin?_

He was about my age (I think; it wasn't really even sure if I had a definite age or not), maybe a little older; he was wearing the light blue uniform that all patients in places like this had to. His skin was tanned like Marik's had been, and his hair was about the same sandy blonde as well, except the style was very different. Instead of Marik's more smooth flowing hair, this teen's hair was divided into many clumps all over his head, some of them defying gravity by sticking up almost perfectly straight. I wasn't quite sure if it was Melvin or not, but whoever he was, he seemed to be ignoring the fact that the door had just collapsed.

I breathed in deeply, knowing that this next move would either make me or break me. "…Melvin Ishtar?" The name rolled unhurriedly and tranquilly off my tongue in the silence (aside from the pounding of the guards, of course), feeling strange and new to me. But it was a…nice strange, something that I knew I could get used to feeling. I hoped that he would do something to respond to the name, anything to tell me that this was truly him.

It was then that he looked up at me; his eyes were of deep lavender as Marik's were, but there was a darkness to this one's that set him apart. Slivers of black and silver could be found between the purple hues, these tiny hints telling me stories of this person's persona, spilling his life out to me like blood on the floor. This was Melvin. This was the one I'd been willing to risk my liberty to find. Seeing those eyes, eyes that had obviously seen many things that would drive a regular person insane but had instead enjoyed, I felt that my troubles had been worth it.

"You know," I was a little surprised when Melvin started to speak, his voice unlike any that I'd ever heard or expected to hear in my time here in this world. It was deep and demonic, but there was something in it that calmed me. I wasn't sure how or why, but there was something… "At first, I didn't believe the little whispers when they told me someone was coming to take me away. And yet, here you are." A wickedly evil grin stretched across his face as he chuckled satanically, the veins in his face showing for a moment.

His words stunned me, leaving me speechless; what the hell was he talking about? Were his voices the same as the one I'd been hearing? I was about to ask him about what he meant when the double doors burst open, sending splinters and little chips of metal flying everywhere. I shielded my face from the debris with my arms, and saw the barrels of pistols pointing at me when I lowered my hands. My eyes widened and I cussed inwardly at the menacing sight.

Right when I was almost certain that I was going to be shot, Melvin shot out of the small dark room, snatched the Millennium Rod from my side, and stood in front of me with the Millennium Rod extended in his hand. The guards seemed to hesitate; a few glanced at each other. They appeared unsure of what to do. Obviously, none of them had ever seen the Millennium Rod before and no one here besides Melvin really knew what it could do.

Melvin shot them a pointed grin, but other than that, they had about as much time to react as a rat does with a trap. Within seconds, the Millennium Rod began to glow faintly, and with a simple swing of his arm, all the men were thrown violently against the wall. Their bodies were surrounded with a thin yellowish aura-like color, apparently being caused by the Millennium Item and its incredible power.

The shine faded and they dropped to the floor like dead flies; I doubted that the simple toss had killed any of them, though. A few were groaning as they lay writhing on the floor, but Melvin paid little to no mind to them as he started towards the doors the guards had broken through. I was hesitant to follow him. Did he want me to accompany him? Did he even know his way around here? His confidant stride suggested as much, but still…

I ran after him quickly, stopping only to give one of the men a swift kick in the nose, my effort being rewarded with a loud snapping sound. This acted as a warning to both him and the other guards: Stay down or I'll break your freaking face. Seeing that they had gotten the message, I turned and hurried to catch up with Melvin.

Racing down the hall, I saw him turn down a different corridor, one I knew would lead to the storage rooms. Apparently Melvin did know his way around this place. Following him, I tore through the door and caught up to the Egyptian, dropping to a walk beside him. He kept his gaze off of me, but acknowledged my presence by inquiring, "Obviously, you know who I am. I don't know who the hell you are, though. So, enlighten me."

I looked at him silently for a moment, feeling a bit lost for some reason. Sure, I'd introduced myself a lot now, but it never felt normal to me. But Melvin wasn't normal either; we had that in common. That knowledge calmed me a bit. "Kushoku. My name is Kushoku," Glancing away from him for a moment, I saw the storage room that I'd first seen his name in. "I saw a bag labeled as yours in that room right there." I gestured towards it with a wave of my arm.

He gave a nod and went into the room, the light still on from when I'd last been in there. The door clicked closed behind him; I waited in the hallway, leaning up against the wall as I kept watch for any spunky security guy that was willing to try and call my bluff. I doubted that they'd come, but it was best to expected the unexpected.

Melvin came back out of the room a few minutes later, now wearing a dark purple cape with a gold chain across the front, a black sleeveless shirt, and khaki pants. The Millennium Rod was in his hand, his fingers curled around it in an intricate way, the placement of them and the tender way he held it telling me that he was well acquainted with the magical gold artifact. It made me wonder about the variscite and whether or not he knew anything about it.

However, I didn't voice my thoughts quite yet. I'd waited this long, I could wait a little while longer. We walked in silence all the way to the front desk, both of us lost in our own thoughts; I couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do with me now. I still had to find a way to make sure that he wouldn't leave me, keep him with me as a companion of kinds. But nothing had come to mind as the perfect plan yet.

Upon entering the front office, the receptionist whimpered with fear and covered her head with her hands, still curled up by the fake plant. Melvin chortled darkly at her despair, apparently finding pleasure in seeing her that way. The scene made me smile a bit, but I wasn't quite sure why. Maybe because it showed that he was what I'd been hoping to find: Someone who found happiness in the pain of others, someone who could cut a throat and think nothing of it.

We left the woman to cower alone and exited the building, the shattered glass door clicking closed behind us. A soft wind blew through the night sky, sending gray clouds skittering across the diamond sky, the moon watching happily as the stars winked at each other. I could smell the freshness of the air as we walked down the street, taste the crispness of the chilled wind on my tongue; Melvin seemed pleased to be able to feel this clean air again as well.

"So, what is it that you have?" I was surprised to hear Melvin speak up again, and saw then that he was looking at me. His gaze was intense, a stare that had been perfected over time to strike fear and horror into the hearts of those that it touched. But it was just a set of violet eyes that hated the mortals of this world to me.

I cocked my head slightly to the side and looked at him with confusion. What the hell was he talking about? Seeing my inability to assume what the 'it' was, he clarified rather sharply, "How did you do that to both of those doors? There's not a key in the world that can do that, and certainly no ordinary person could do it either. So, what is it you have?" Now that he put it like that, I felt pretty stupid for not figuring out what he meant.

"Oh, it's these," I held my hands out, showing him the gloves. "I know it sounds crazy, but they've got special powers because of what's in them: Variscite." Putting my hands back down, I scanned his face for any hint of disbelief, anything that might tell me that he thought I was more messed up than the fruit loop eating the kid instead of it being the other way around. I saw nothing; in fact, I saw a touch of interest cross his soulless eyes.

The tiniest of smile stretched across his lips, the veins popping out a bit again. "Is that so? Hm, I believe I've heard of that before. A European stone, used to relieve stress and promote peace and love within the heart of whoever wears it. I didn't know that it could be so menacing as well," I gaped at his response, my brain fried and reeling to think of anything to say in response to that.

I had nothing. "…All I really know is that it's green…I barely even know how I did all that stuff with it…" I knew that it made me sound like an idiot, but it slipped out. It was the honest truth, and it was better than lying and having Melvin call my bluff by asking for a demonstration. I could give him something, like the memory thingy, but that wouldn't be very convincing.

The blonde Egyptian gave a bit of a snicker, beginning to walk ahead of me. He turned his face from me, but I knew he was smiling in a taunting matter as he 'tsk'ed, "What a pity. And here I thought you were worth something." His words made my feet come to a sudden halt. I knew that I could just let him go right now; he didn't have to be my companion, my friend. _But who is there in this world that could best this nutcase? I've got no back-ups._

Knowing this full well, a sinister little grin tore onto my face. "Well, Melvin, that would depend on whose side I'm on, now wouldn't it?" Melvin stopped walking. He didn't turn or do anything else, but I knew that I had his attention. "Think about it. You saw what I did when I didn't know what I was doing. Just imagine what I could do if I did know, think of all that I could accomplish—think of all we could do!

"You said you've heard of this stone before, but I think that you're only telling me half of the truth. I think you know much more about variscite than what you're letting on. So, I'm willing to make you a deal," Melvin turned around then and stared at me, his eyes cold and emotionless, and his face blank. We locked gazes as I continued, "If you teach me how to work this ancient weapon, I'll be more than happy to follow you to the ends of the world.

"I'll work for you; I'll do your dirty work, no matter what it is or what the cost may be. So," I crossed my arms over my chest, that dark smile still residing contentedly on my face. "Do we have a deal?" The both of us stood there in silence as Melvin mulled over my offer. I knew that he would see that there was no way that he had anything to lose with this. He would get a weapon that could only get stronger, and I would get a comrade as well as that same armament.

All he had to do was say yes.

Suddenly, a smile flew onto Melvin's face and he threw his head back, laughing loudly. "You, Kushoku, drive a hard bargain, if I do say so myself," He chuckled again before spinning back around on his heel, gesturing with a flick of his hand for me to come and follow him. "Come, you've got yourself a deal." My heart nearly burst out of my ribcage at his reply; I'd never, ever known joy like this before in my whole life, albeit it had only really lasted for a couple of days. But still.

The feelings of rejection and loneliness that this cold world had filled me with burned away as if they'd been set on fire by a pyromaniac. I felt as if someone had just opened up a whole new world to me, told me that the entire thing was mine to do with as I thought best. I felt…it was so intense and complicated that I didn't even know what to think of it, really. All I knew was that it was the best thing I'd experienced in what felt like an eternity.

"Are you going to come along or are you just going to stand there and wait for the garbage cans to come and give you a free ride? Trust me, it's not going to happen." The sound of Melvin's voice shook me from my trance, and I sprinted to catch up with him. My legs felt numb and my head was pounding with excitement; my world was nearing perfect right about now, if there was such a state.

I'd completely forgotten about that voice in my head at this point.

And he still didn't reappear in my mind, either. "Now, we're going to need someplace to stay, and I know exactly where we can go. You won't have to snap anybody's wrist for us to get a place there, either." Melvin's voice was a bit teasing, apparently knowing that I still felt a little bad for the man that I'd done said mutilating to. But how had he known about that? Had he heard the scream and just pieced everything together? If so, why would he have automatically assumed that it was a wrist?

Shaking the puzzlement from my brain for the time being, I glanced at him and inquired instead, "Then what do you have in mind? Have a buddy or something?" I hadn't thought of that before. Melvin, being an obvious criminal, would have to know others that had claimed Domino City as their turf. I wouldn't be very surprised if he thought it would be a good idea to hang around them.

However, the exotic teen shook his head, the motion not even disturbing a single hair. He still kept his eyes fixed straight ahead of him as he walked, each stride with purpose and strength. "Not at all. There's a little apartment building not too far from here—which is a little odd, if you think about it. Why put a building like that where kids stay right next to the asylum? It's like telling them, 'Hey, if you don't grow up and end up there, you lived wrong'.

"Nevertheless, we'll go there. And as for rent," Melvin held up the Millennium Rod, absentmindedly stroking the top of it as he smiled deviously. "Let's just say that the landlord will find that I can be quite convincing."

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><p><strong>Hooray! And now, on to the stalking chapter :D<strong>


	6. Chapter 5

**Hey, everybody :) I've actually had this done for quite a while now, but I decided that I was going to start editing my stuff so that I could get a bit more experience and whatnot. So, that took up a lot of my time lol. Nevertheless, I got it done, and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.**

**Hope you like :) **

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

My eyes were reluctant to open the next morning. For once, I was sleeping in a place that was comfortable and warm, and the absolute last thing I wanted to do was move. Chopping my foot off and using it as a makeshift pillow sounded better than getting up, honestly. Last night had been my first time sleeping in an actual bed, and it was a blessing that most people didn't even think about.

I couldn't stop thinking about how wonderful such a little thing as a nice place to sleep was. Having your own little world of peace and rest was something that couldn't be taken away from you very easily, but when it was, it was a lot like having your sense of safety and protection stolen. Little children, when scared, would hide underneath their blankets, thinking it would be of some kind of protection. Teens knew that their pillow would give them a hug when no one else would, no questions asked.

Safety. Warmth. Love.

Everyone yearned for those three things. Some wanted more, much more, but the main three things that every heart cried for each day and each night were harder to come by than the flu. The thing that boggled most minds was how to go about obtaining these three seemingly unattainable things. It was a hunt that could bring most to their knees in pain—

_Wait a minute. Why am I in a bed?_

A vision of someone drugging me up and getting me back to his house flooded my mind with horror, but then I realized that I was still fully clothed. That ruled that out. I was about to tear off the blankets and get the hell out of there (preferably through the window right next to the bed) when an aggravated shout echoed through the apartment, the voice being one that I recognized, "What the frigg? How did I miss _that_ many times?"

As memories started to return to my puzzled head, a small smile crossed my lips and I relaxed a bit. I was here because I'd found a companion, a friend: Melvin Ishtar. I had somehow found my way to Domino City's Mental Help Clinic, found him, broken him out of that wretched prison, and made a deal. A deal that had, in a way, sold my soul over to him as if he was Satan and I a wretched sinner. But I didn't mind. Actually, I couldn't possibly have been any happier than I was right then.

And as for the apartment that we were currently in, I owed that to Melvin as well. He had used the Millennium Rod to brainwash the landlord, which had been pretty impressive to watch. Melvin was confident with his magical, mystical weapon, the exact opposite of my relationship with the variscite. However, the blonde Egyptian had said that he would change that. It would only take a bit of time.

I took his words to be the truth and didn't think about it much more after that. I was starting to learn that that was how most things went with Melvin. You trusted what he said as what would happen and didn't fret about it. I liked that. It was nice not to have to be constantly wondering about how I was going to spend the next day or two, or how I was going to live the rest of my life thinking that way. Now, I knew that I didn't have to. I had Melvin now, and we could take care of one another.

Of course, I'd never say anything like that to Melvin.

Rising reluctantly to my feet and leaving the warm bed behind, I left the room now designated as mine and started towards the living room. Upon coming out of the hallway, which contained another two small bedrooms and a bathroom, I came into the kitchen. It was a medium-sized kitchen with an island counter in the middle of it. The paint was off-white, giving it a bit of a professional look, and the counters were a shiny slate (which showed that this was a pretty freaking nice apartment). There were a couple of ordinary appliances scattered across the surface of the counter as well, including a toaster, coffee maker, and microwave. There was a little shelf above the stove where the spices had been arranged, going from tallest to smallest. The stove was built into the counter perpendicular to the sink.

Leaving the kitchen, I entered the living/entry room. It was the biggest out of all that rooms, probably about two times the size of the kitchen and four times the size of most of the bedrooms. There was a glass door leading out to a small balcony (we were on the…seventh floor, I think) that let in a fair amount of sunlight, enough so that I didn't need to turn on any lights. A few pieces of upholstery were in the general center of the room, angled around a small television and coffee table. The lights hung on the wall, the light bulb encased by a floral glass…thingy, giving it a very fancy and pretty appearance against the red paint of the walls.

A flash of orange caught my eye, and when I turned I saw that the door to the little balcony was open, the breeze blowing the bright curtains around. I moved the thin fabric aside and looked to see why the door would be open, smiling when I learned the reason. Melvin was standing outside, leaning over the railing with a couple bright green balloons with purple polka dots at his side, another one in his hand. I wasn't about to ask where they'd come from, but what he was doing…yeah, I could dare to do that.

"Um, Melvin? What the hell are you doing?" I tried to make the question sound serious, but it was hard when I saw the look on his face: pure joy. A couple shouts of confusion and maybe even a few of pain came to my ears, intriguing me a bit more as to what in the world he was watching. And if he just so happened to be the cause of the other people's extreme discomfort.

Without acknowledging my presence, Melvin picked up another balloon and chucked it down at somebody on the street. I heard the pop and splatter as it either hit a person or the pavement, probably a person according to the cry of surprise that his efforts were rewarded with. That yell was followed by a scream of, "My eye! It burns!" which made Melvin roar with maniacal laugher.

The evil Egyptian teen then turned to me, a wicked grin residing upon his tanned face. He waggled his finger at me as he chuckled, "Never let it be said that balloons can't be used for evil purposes." Turning away from me again, he chucked another balloon down at the street, another couple of shrill shouts and exclamations of cusses following the 'splat'. He smiled down at the chaos he was causing. It was like watching a child play with a brand new toy. If that child was playing with evil ketchup-filled balloons.

Playing with the curtain a bit as I talked, I questioned with a light tone of voice, a touch of laughter entertaining it as well, "Why are you throwing balloons filled with ketchup at walkers?" I released the curtains from my grasp and came over to stand beside him, leaning over the railing a bit as he let another polka-dotted balloon sail down towards more unsuspecting citizens on their way to work and school. The balloon landed with a loud smacking sound on the head some tall brunette guy in a big white trench coat, a reddish liquid spraying all over everyone standing within a yard of him.

The man looked up and shouted something up at us, but I merely cast the angry businessman a cheerful little wave. He stormed off right about then, obviously pissed beyond belief. As I watched the mad brunette stomp off, Melvin gave another chuckle, apparently watching the same guy. "First off, it's not ketchup. It's tabasco sauce. And second, it's fun." As if to prove the second point to me, he tossed another balloon on down, this one landing in the middle of a group of about-to-not-be-so-happy high school girls. They shrieked at the unexpected bombardment; however, the two of us burst out laughing at their eccentric reaction.

After I got my regular breathing pattern back a bit more, I re-entered the living room, making a beeline for the kitchen. Glancing over my shoulder back at Melvin, I called to him over my shoulder, "You want something to eat?" I wasn't used to asking that kind of thing since I was normally alone, but it felt like the thing to do. Besides, if I was hungry in the morning, one could assume that Melvin would be too.

Melvin replied simply in a slightly frisky voice, leaving the remainder of the balloons there on the balcony as he came back into the apartment, "Sure. But can you even cook?" He followed me into the kitchen, jumping up onto one of the bar stools that were scattered around the island counter/dining table (the stools were stored in little empty spaces underneath the table top, something I had thought was pretty nifty).

"I don't know," I muttered like I was in a library and was trying really hard not to draw attention to myself. I had never cooked before, but I figured it would be easy enough to catch on. "I guess we're going to find out, aren't we?" After pulling a pan down from the cupboard and placing it on the stove, I twirled around the kitchen, grabbing a recipe for something called 'pancakes'. After looking at it for a minute or two, I shrugged to myself and decided to give it a shot. It couldn't be that hard to cook pancakes, right?

I gathered up all the ingredients and did whatever the directions told me to, stirring and doing odd little things whenever it commanded that it should be done. A couple of minutes passed by before the room really started to smell good, the scent of something baking filling the kitchen quite quickly when the batter began to cook on the hot pan.

While waiting for the time when I would have to go and flip the pancakes, I sat down at the counter with Melvin. He was currently investigating the variscite gloves. I'd taken them off yesterday before going to bed, but I wasn't entirely sure where I could've put them last night for him to have been able to find them. His expression was blank as he began flipping them over and over in his hands, appearing as if he was looking for something specific but having difficulty finding it. Or remembering what it was he was searching for in the first place.

"What's the major malfunction, Mr. Detective?" Melvin cast me a bit of a weird look for the name, but I merely gave him a shrug to explain the reasoning behind it. I, honestly, wasn't even sure where it had come from. So, to try and re-phrase my question, I gestured towards the fingerless gloves, poking at one of them lightly. It seemed to twitch at my tentative touch.

The blonde shrugged before tossing the gloves back to me, which I immediately returned to my hands as if on instinct. A feeling of anxiety crossed my heart whenever they weren't with me; it was strange that I felt that way about them. It was odd to have such an attachment to something as simple as a pair of gloves, but then again, they weren't really ordinary gloves. They were just an easy way for me to always have the variscite with me, a little scheme thought up by the voice in my head. Whoever that was.

As I got up to go and check the pancakes, Melvin voiced a question that had often crossed my own mind, "How did you get those, anyway? " His tone made it seem as if he thought this was an inquiry that was pretty simple to answer. But, in reality, it wasn't that easy. I had no clue how I'd come to possess the variscite-gloves, let alone who had given them to me. I'd assumed that it was the same person the voice belonged to, but that didn't help much seeing how I didn't know who that was.

He was obviously someone powerful, someone who was older and much wiser than most senior citizens that had ever roamed this earth. His voice suggested something demonic, but that didn't make sense to me. Why would some old demon guy start mentally stalking me? Was it about the variscite? Was there a chance that I wasn't the one destined to be in control of it, and this entity was here to steal it away? I figured that wasn't right since I could recall him saying how it was to be mine, how I was to use it to destroy the world or something. But that left no other answers to the question of his presence.

"I…" I paused to flip a pancake, listening to the way that the uncooked side sizzled quietly on the pan. I stared at the browning pastry, trying to use the pause as another opportunity to think of an answer, but I still could think of nothing to tell him. So, in the end, I had no other option but to go with the flat-out truth and hope that it would suffice. "…I really have no idea."

After gathering up the pancakes that were done and dividing them between two plates, I set one before Melvin and kept the other by me. I didn't touch mine right off the bat; however, Melvin dove into his with great gusto. It was nice to know that I didn't completely fail at the whole 'cooking' thing.

I thought for a moment that his silence (aside from the chewing) meant that he had dropped the question, but a little glimmer in his eye told me that it was still on his mind. His mind whirred as he pondered my almost unbelievable answer. Even I thought that it was a bit far-fetched to think that I had merely found them one day, fully aware that they were capable of incredible things.

So, I decided to add something else. "If it means anything, some voice has been mentioning it in my head for the past couple of days." I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to be mentioning something like that to him since we'd just met the day before, but we were going to be stuck together for quite a while. He was going to have to have to find out about the all these odd occurrences someday. Apparently, today was going to be that day.

This new tid-bit of information seemed to catch the Egyptian's attention. He stopped mid-bite and stared at me, his purple eyes expressing an interest in my confession. He didn't seem very serious about the matter, which surprised me. Usually when somebody tells you that they've been hearing a voice in their head that doesn't belong to them, they take it with a bit of nervous solemnity. "Tell me more." According to his jovial tone of voice, Melvin clearly thought it was important, but not the kind of event that you had to fret about. His lack of concern over the matter sent a wave of calm over my mind.

"Well," It felt odd talking to someone who was still living. I thought that I'd mentioned the voice to Amane while speaking at her grave, but she hadn't been sitting a foot away from me eating pancakes. I wasn't necessarily afraid to talk about it, but it felt a little awkward since this could just end up being some freaky split persona that I'd made up without knowing it. "I don't really know what to say. He seems wiser than a lot of people that I've met, and he sounds kinda gravelly and…old, too. He's known a lot about the Millennium Items and the variscite and stuff like that, but…I still don't know much about him…"

I trailed off into silence, not sure what else there really was to say about the guy. That was basically all that I'd figured out about him, and even then it was next to nothing. It didn't help that there was nothing significant within that heap of nothing anyways. But Melvin saw something worthwhile in the information that I'd given him.

"Yes, yes that does mean quite a lot," Melvin took another bite of the fluffy pastry-thing, chewing it thoughtfully. He was mainly taking such a long time to chew because he knew that the inconvenient pause was killing me. I sat there and scowled at him as he chewed ever so slowly, the time creeping by slower than the rate at which a caterpillar crawls. A _dead _caterpillar, at that.

Melvin thought my reaction was absolutely priceless though, and my glowering did nothing to stop him from continuing to torture me. But he did eventually swallow (which I was thankful for) and begin to give his thoughts regarding the voice. "Obviously, this is not your average I'm-in-your-head-because-I-want-to-be-so-there-nyeh entity, which you've concluded by now—" _…Yeah. Let's go with that, Melli._ "—and he's got to have some kind of link back to Egypt due to the fact that he knows about the Items. And a great deal about them at that.

"But that's the gist of what I've got," Melvin ended his immensely tiny speech by shoving another bite of pancake into his mouth, evidently seeming to enjoy the fluffy cakes of goodness that I'd made. Nevertheless, his pancake-related ecstasy wasn't enough to deter me from assuming he knew more than what he let on. I was contented with the fact that he both believed me and had made an effort to rid some of my confusion, though, so I didn't prod for anything more.

Smiling at the satisfied feeling that coated my soul like moss on a tropical forest rock, I turned my attention to my own plate of pancakes. I'd been ignoring them long enough that they had started to grow cold from lack of attention. It was a little sad that they weren't nice and hot anymore, but they were still good even without that factor, especially for my first time making them.

The two of us ate in silence, simply enjoying the fact that the both of us now had somebody to spend some time with (well, I was happy about that. Not sure about Melvin). I thought it was kinda nice not to have to steal the food or find some kind of nourishment in the garbage, too. It felt…I wasn't sure how to explain it. It was like I belonged somewhere now, like I had someplace that I could go and not be persecuted for whatever I'd done because Melvin had probably already done it.

Melvin, having begun eating before I had, finished first. As he got up to put his plate over in the general direction of the sink, I heard him ask in a curious little voice, "So, you stole the Millennium Rod from Marik, broke into the Muto's house twice, stole a tomato, and assaulted Weevil Underwood with said vegetable?" His question seemed random to me, and I expressed my surprise by turning to him and raising an eyebrow. The look was a bit mutilated due to the fact that I'd just shoved another bite of pancake into my mouth and hadn't gotten around to taking the fork back out.

Figuring that he was expecting some kind of an answer other than a raised eyebrow, I gave a small nod of my head. My mind wandered over all kinds of theories as to why he might've asked about that, but I couldn't settle on anything in particular that made a whole lot of sense to me. I was beginning to notice that most of the things I pondered ended up not making much sense.

He nodded his head slightly, leaning up against the counter as he wondered something to himself. Royal violet eyes gazed silently at the floor while he mulled whatever dilemma had brought itself up within his mind. Since he hadn't voiced his new thoughts, I didn't pay his predicament all that much attention and focused instead on my pan-shaped cakes. I was beginning to find that they were extraordinarily addictive once you got going on them.

A few more moments of pleasurable silence went by before Melvin pushed off from the counter, heading for the hallway. As he made his way down to one of the other rooms, I heard him call out, "I'm taking you on a field trip." I stopped eating abruptly at his strange statement, nearly choking on what I'd been chewing. I swung around to stare back at the hall (he wasn't actually standing there anymore, but it still felt necessary).

Leaning so that I could see a bit further into the hallway, I voiced the confusion that my mind was currently being barraged with, "What are you talking about?" I mean, of all the things that he could've said (or thought about, since that was probably what he'd been thinking about), and he says something about a freaking field trip? It would be all right if we'd mentioned anything that was even partially related to that kind of thing, but we hadn't been talking about _anything_ like that.

Melvin's response really wasn't the explanation that I'd been hoping for, either. "A field trip!" His tone was a combination of matter-of-fact-ness and excitement, making him sound very proud of his new plan. Which he probably was. I, however, was a tad nervous about what he was plotting, especially since one could only assume that he wasn't about to let me in on what was running through his mind right about now.

"I got _that_ far!" I called back, a touch of irritation tugging at my skull at his complete and utter refusal to cooperate with the conversation at hand. That was one thing about Melvin that would take a bit more time to get used to. Though, he was proving to be an interesting guy, and I liked that. So, he could have some…quirks. One good thing about that would be that I could just blame him if we ever tried to murder one another. "But what do you mean by that?"

"You'll see." I glowered exasperatedly at the wall where he'd last been before disappearing into the hallway. I'd assumed a couple seconds ago that he was in his room since I could hear him rummaging around for something. But that didn't tell me anything about what he had on his mind other than the fact that he lost something and was having a _hell_ of a time trying to find it according to all of the banging and ruffling that was coming from that room.

Knowing that there was absolutely no way that I could weasel my way out of his little fun-time mission, I figured that I may as well make sure that I was prepared for the worst. You had to be accustomed to such things when around this guy. "…Well, am I going to need something as a weapon since the variscite and I don't see eye-to-eye yet?" It was right about then that Melvin re-entered the kitchen with the item that he'd somehow lost in his room in a matter of hours: his cape. Now, it billowed out behind him as if he was some great king coming down to meet with his nobles, like Charlemagne going out into battle with his army with his great blue cape.

As Melvin passed me, heading for the front door, he tossed me a flip-open knife over his shoulder. I threw my fork to the side and dove forward to catch the falling knife without thinking. I thudded onto the floor with a grunt, and the stupidity of my action struck me like an axe. Why had I thought that it was a good idea to put so much effort into catching the freaking thing? But, on a positive note, I _had_ caught the blade.

The blonde teen hadn't made any sign that he'd noticed my pint-sized feat. Instead, he gestured for me to follow him out of the apartment, answering my inquiry about the whole weapon-thing as we left. He didn't make me feel any better about this whole 'field trip' thing, though. "…Depends." Yes. I felt _oh_, so very safe now. And yet, I still got up and ran to catch up with the psychotic Egyptian.

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><p>"Okay, I promise that this is the very last time I'll ask: Why are we here?" I glanced over at Melvin from my spot in front of one of the Domino City High School's windows, a look of minute boredom resting upon my face. Melvin didn't seem all too thrilled either since nothing had really gone on. It probably didn't help that I kept asking questions and refused to shut the hell up.<p>

After we'd left the apartment, Melvin had dragged me all around the city, talking about the most random things that one could possibly think of as we looked for something that he hadn't even told me about. So, that made it really hard for me to help him out with the whole searching thing. But he had seemed pretty certain about where we were going, so I wasn't worried about it. Perplexed, but not worried.

We had gotten to our destination without much trouble (meaning, without me trying to convince Melvin that he'd gotten us lost), but I was still a tad confused as to why we were at the high school. I knew that Yugi and a lot of his friends went here, but what were Melvin and me going to do to them in the middle of the day? It wasn't like barging in and saying, 'Hey, we're here to kill you. Surprised?' was going to do a whole lot of good. Kidnapping was out of the question, too.

Melvin was getting a bit sick of answering my reoccurring questions; it was pretty easy to tell by the fact that he'd been trying to ignore me for the past while now. "Like I said, you should get used to stalking your enemies. I'm letting you practice your Yugi-and-company-hunting abilities—or lack of them, as it is. Now. Shut. Up." I grudgingly obeyed Melvin's irritated command, crouching down creeper-ly as I peered through the window at the teenagers who were currently stuck in the prison known as high school.

One kid noticed us there, but he'd ignored me after I waggled my eyebrows at him. Menacingly.

The final bell rang and every single student made a mad dash for the door, most getting stuck since they all were trying to escape the cursed classroom at one time. Finally, two of the taller teens—a blonde accompanied by a brunette with serious hair gel problems—that had been hanging around the Bearer of the Millennium Puzzle threw themselves against the blockade of human flesh, knocking everybody, including themselves, over in the process. They did get a clear path out of the room, though, so their plan sort of worked.

A few more minutes passed by before the doors swung open and a river of students came rushing out of the establishment. Melvin and I blended into the swarm easily from our spot against the wall, appearing to be two more students waiting around for a ride. If only they knew what we were truly there for, what was really running through our minds…

They would end up in that insane asylum within a matter of days.

I grinned as the 'goody-goody group' (as Melvin so lovingly referred to them as) meandered passed, not even realizing that two of their enemies were no more than nine or ten yards away. In a way, it made me feel powerful to know that all I had to do was reach out and make my move. There was nothing that they could do to stop either one of us from destroying them with a mere swing of our arm.

As they passed by, that feeling of euphoria and ultimate strength began to fade from my system. Feeling a little empty without that drug-like sensation, I started to step forward, planning to follow them and continue to enjoy that lovely, unbelievable dream of being like a god. An almighty being, surpassed by none. The kind of being that the ancients told stories of, warned their children of. 'Behave yourselves, or the creatures in the dark will come and eat you up'.

The thought made me shiver with delight.

However, I didn't get very far. Melvin reached out and grabbed my shoulder, stopping me pretty effectively due to the fact that he was obviously stronger than I was. "Wait," Although it was only one word, it acted as a thousand of its kind would've. I complied to the simple command, stepping back again to stand beside him, his hand then dropping from my shoulder.

Taking his eyes away from me, he crossed his arms across his chest, the gold bracelets clinking together when they met. Calm clairvoyance was dancing within his eyes. It was almost as if he were waiting for something, something that he saw coming that I had not. Or something I just wasn't looking hard enough to notice.

Not even five seconds later, the brunette I'd seen before burst out of the school building and took off sprinting after his little clique, shouting for them to let him catch up. I wasn't really paying much attention to what he'd been saying, though. My mind was much more focused on the fact that Melvin had somehow seen him coming. It was impossible for him to have known, wasn't it? It was a lucky guess and nothing more. Right?

Turning to him, I gave Melvin a puzzled look, having absolutely no explanation as to how he could've known that guy was going to run past. He caught my gaze, but merely shrugged it off and didn't reply. Instead, he started to move after Yugi and his friends, leaving me in an astonished daze. The crazed Egyptian's cape blew out behind him in a way that reminded me of Superman, and yet Melvin was as far from a hero as you could get.

He was a living, breathing paradox.

Catching up to my villainous friend, I learned that now that we were farther away from the noise the other students were making, I could actually hear what the group of do-gooders were talking about. Yugi was the first one to start up a conversation, which didn't surprise me much, "So, Joey, which country are you going to do your World History report on? Your mind set on anything specific?" His question was gestured towards the blonde that had used his ninja skills to break out of the classroom.

"I don' know yet, Yug," His tone was that of a cheerful fellow, a Brooklyn accent accompanying the happiness his vocal cords expressed. His flamboyant blonde hair, shiny like the sun's beams, framed his brown eyes in a way that breathed radiance. I wasn't sure why, but I thought that made him look awful pretty. "The teach' isn't lettin' us do any of the fun countries 'cause of what happened last year."

A tall girl with short russet hair and wide, clear cerulean eyes sent him a perplexed glance. She had also been hanging around with them in that last class and was currently walking next to the spiky-haired Pharaoh. "How in the world…What happened last year?" Her friendly face was warped with confusion at how a simple little assignment such as a research paper could turn into something all that terrible.

Joey chuckled lightly as he placed a hand behind his head awkwardly. "Well, Tea, let's just say that Ms. Miziku isn't fond of that volcano I made for my grade school's Science Fair." Some of his other friends laughed, evidently knowing the story that went along with this. The girl, Tea, glanced at all of them, hoping somebody would enlighten her about this. Nobody did. I assumed it had something to do with the hand-crafted volcano exploding all over the classroom. Which was probably a pretty safe guess.

The brunette with the haircut that reminded me of unicorns crossed his arms behind his head as he walked, a pleased smile springing onto his face. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm doing my report on Japan." Judging by his high-and-mighty air, he was pretty proud of having chosen the simplest country to do a report on: the one he lived in. The teen stole a couple glimpses at his buddies' expressions before adding in a prideful fashion, "That's right. Tristan Taylor, the next Albert Einstein."

Ignoring his friend's final statement, Pharaoh glanced over at Tristan oddly, one eyebrow raised in utter stupefaction, "…That makes no sense. We're _in_ Japan…" As another autumn breeze rolled past, the teen's spiky blonde, mahogany, and black hair (if that's natural, he deserves a freaking medal) swayed in a very majestic and tranquil manner. Combined with his dark violet eyes, it gave him an imperial appearance.

Tristan beamed. "I know!" Striking a triumphant pose, the should-be-blonde placed his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out in an effort to make himself look more manly. It wasn't doing very much to help him out. But it was entertaining as hell to watch him try. "That's what's going to make it so easy! And it _is_ a country, so there's no way this could fail!"

"Joey!"

Reacting quickly to the sound of someone approaching, Melvin grabbed onto my wrist and dragged me to the side. By the time the person came past, we were hiding in the safety of some building's heavy shadow. I saw that the newcomer was a girl about a year or so younger than those in Pharaoh's clique. She had merry chocolate eyes similar to Joey's and fawn-brown hair that hung down her back to her waist. She had a very innocent face, kind of like what Ryou did.

Melvin seemed pleased to see her. "Why, hello there…" The words rolled off his tongue in a way that I'd never heard him speak before. It was drenched in sweetness, but had a sultry and seductive air to it. There was no good way for me to have been prepared for such a thing coming out of him. Some random nutcase who saw a pretty girl go by, sure. Weevil had already shown me that I could handle that.

But _Melvin_?

"Hey, sis!" Joey greeted his apparent sister with an embrace, causing a bright smile to glide onto the young girl's face. But she wasn't the only one to have shown up unexpectedly. Joey noticed this after they separated from one another's arms. "…Serenity, what were ya hanging with Devlin for?" Following the blonde's gaze back to where Serenity had come running over from, I saw who they were talking about.

Now, for the record, I was becoming pretty certain that I had gotten myself a pony tail fetish. Not sure how it happened, but it had. And this guy wasn't doing anything to help fix it. Just saying.

A boy with sleek black hair tied up in a sexy pony tail, his long, semi-curly bangs held out of his seductive green eyes by a red and black headband, was strutting over to the group. Halting next to Serenity, Duke Devlin gave his head a bit of a toss, throwing his overhanging bangs out of his face before answering Joey's question for the girl, "I was giving her a hand with the introduction for her essay. We're in a lot of the same classes, so—"

"I'm in her Geometry class!" Tristan clearly did not approve of Duke's presence here, especially since he was so close to Serenity. _Solely_ because he was so close to Serenity. After interrupting Duke's explanation of why they'd been together, the brunette came over, took Serenity by the hand, and pulled her over to stand beside him. He seemed a bit more content after having done so.

The raven-haired boy was as displeased about this current situation as Mr. Taylor was. "So, what?" He copied Tristan's childish antics by drawing the poor girl back over to his side of the playing field. That took my attraction to him down a peg or four. With a defiant flip of his perfect hair, Duke snapped back heatedly, "You probably don't even know what the Pythagorean Theorem is, let alone how to spell it."

An angry red hue lit up the teenager's face, his hands automatically becoming fists at his sides. "That doesn't mean anything!" He reached over and brought Serenity back over to him, a bit more forcefully this time. I felt a little bad for her; she was oblivious to the reason why they were fighting, but was still too stunned to get herself out from the middle of it. Nobody else wanted to risk being killed by Duke or Tristan, otherwise they might've helped her out. "What are you doing your History thing on?" The question was a tad on the random side, but based on what I'd discovered about the rest of Tristan's persona, I wasn't surprised.

Duke seemed to think that it was pretty out there as well. Nevertheless, he gave his answer, albeit a touch reluctant, "…Korea." The Devlin boy raised his eyebrow at Tristan when a mischievous grin was slapped onto his face. One could only assume that the brown-eyed creeper was going to try to use this new topic as an excuse to bring up his rant about how it was smart to do a report about the very country that he'd grown up in and was still living in. _If he doesn't bring up that stupid idea of his, I swear on Amane's grave that I will give that guy a hug. _

"Ha! I'm doing mine on…Czechoslovakia!" …I wasn't sure whether or not I was still entitled to give him that hug or not. He hadn't mentioned his Japan-related plan, yeah, but…now he was going with a region that _had_ been a country in the _past_. I was pretty sure that it had split up into two different districts now: the Czech Republic and Slovakia. So…now what?

Pharaoh and the rest of the brunette's buddies seemed to be just as befuddled. "I thought you were writing it about Japan!" The taller of the two Yugis exclaimed, his whole body expressing exasperation for his friend's meaningless switch. But, according to the others' reactions to this I'm-better-than-you-are stuff going on between Duke and Tristan, this kind of thing was very common. And very annoying.

"Nuh-uh!" The majority of the group was clearly getting a migraine from the arguing and utter stupidity, and neither Tristan nor Duke were being of much help. "I wanted a challenge to show how awesome and intellectually smart I am, so I went with a country that doesn't technically exist anymore! It's _genius_!" A couple of them (including me) were surprised that he knew that Czechoslovakia had broken up, but that, if anything, only proved that it was a what-the-hell-were-you-thinking idea.

The longer I thought about it, the more I started to wonder. Was it a good idea after all? I mean, nobody else would've thought of it. If anyone had, they probably would've just done either the Czech Republic or Slovakia, like normal people. Nevertheless, it wasn't a country anymore, so…There was no way to describe it. There was no one in the freaking world that could figure out why Tristan did anything that he did.

I could barely remember his name, but I still knew I'd never figure him the hell out.

Duke stared at his competitor with mouth somewhat agape as he tried to figure out how to reply to that, or why Tristan had been born without a brain. "...Tristan, does it hurt to be that stupid?" Somebody snorted with laughter, but was able to clap a hand over his mouth and regain control over himself before Tristan (or me, for that matter) could figure out who it had been. Duke seemed pleased that someone had thought his joke was worth acknowledging.

Tristan, however, did not approve. He glowered hotly at Devlin, receiving a cool and level smirk in response. Right now, it seemed like the only card that the honey-eyed teenager had left to play was changing the topic to something _so_ far from what they were talking about now that everybody would face palm. And hell, did he do it. "…I have money!" _Tristan Taylor: The Master of Topic-Changing. Worship him, and worship him well. If you don't, you will never be able to change a topic. Ever._

"I'll bet you anything that I have more." Nothing about this squall seemed to faze Mr. Sexy Pony Tail anymore, so he switched to the new conversation with ease. The really pathetic and sad thing about this battle was that every time one of them said something, Serenity got dragged towards the speaker. However, she was finally starting to get a bit fed up with it. I had to give her credit for her patience, though. I probably would've bopped one of them in the nose by now, and that would not have been pretty.

"Guys, come on!" She frantically looked back and forth between the two boys, both of them glowering at the each other as she spat her thoughts out, hoping that her words might break through to their lovesick brains. "You don't have to fight about _everything_, do you?" The poor girl's plea for peace seemed to fall on deaf ears, however, and no one gave her any kind of reply.

Except for the one man that no one would expect to speak. Of course, it was nowhere near loud enough for her to hear. "That's just how men work, poppet," Melvin muttered under his breath, his dark, mysterious eyes remaining locked on Serenity like a vicious lion to a wildebeest's young. Aggravated veins were starting to pop out in his neck and face, giving him an inhuman air. "More than willing to fight for something pretty…" I scoffed at his words, finding them foolish. Melvin ignored me, not even batting an eye at my remark.

But inside, I knew I would love to have somebody say that kind of a thing about me.

It was hard to explain why. It just seemed…right to want to feel that way. I assumed it was what every teenage girl wanted, a man to make her feel needed, wanted, and anything and everything in between. It was an addictive, drug-like sensation, one that you didn't want to give up no matter how bad it hurt. When drowning in an emotion such as…_that_, the only thing your mind was willing to focus on was the high that you got. The good feelings, and not the pain.

All the same, I'd never once thought that Melvin might feel anything but a want to kill for someone, but here he was practically saying he'd kill Tristan and/or Duke to make Serenity his own. Homicide was something that came easily to the Egyptian; you could tell just by looking at him, watching him sleep. I'd noticed that he was a very light sleeper, extraordinarily quiet, his hands always closed in loose fists as if holding a small weapon. As if stalking some soulless victim in his dreams.

That fact made it all the more unbelievable that he felt something other than hate or malice for another being.

"Here," Tristan shoved a hand into his pocket, digging around with a look of determination on his face. His high hopes were set on rubbing his awesomeness in Duke's face, the face that clearly did not see the greatness that Mr. Taylor was so very certain that he had. "We can count it out right now!" Despite that look of confidence, the brunette's eyes were beginning to show a bit of doubt and concern. His hand flew to his other pockets, fear filling his expression as he exclaimed accusingly, "Hey, who stole my wallet?"

Upon hearing the word 'stole', Melvin's head snapped in my direction, his eyes questioning me as if he were a detective picking apart his suspect cell by cell, tissue by tissue. But I knew—unless I'd somehow gotten drunk and forgotten, or had a moment of amnesia (if that was possible, not really sure)—that this was the very first time that I'd seen Tristan. Therefore, I couldn't possibly have been the one to take his stupid wallet. Holding my palms up to Melvin, I stated my innocence in the most perfect way ever thought up: "I didn't do it."

Seeing that both Tristan and Duke's attention had been caught by the missing wallet, Joey made his move and rescued his younger sister from her two minutely older suitors, pulling her over to hide behind him. One couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for that poor girl, wanted by so many guys and yet almost completely oblivious to their intentions. Nevertheless, I doubted that there was one girl on the face of the earth who wouldn't want to be in Serenity's place. Hell, it was like a real-life version of Twilight for crying out loud: a tan guy in need of a haircut fighting a pale guy with flawless skin for some chick.

The likeness was uncanny.

While Joey was saving his sibling from whiplash due to being yanked back and forth between statements, everyone else was thinking of who might've taken or would've wanted to take Tristan's wallet (Melvin still thought it was me. It _wasn't_). Yugi, who was attempting to console a very disgruntled and now moneyless Tristan, gave his friend a concerned and sympathetic look. "I don't know why anyone would've—"

"Yugi used it to fend off a Chihuahua that was chasing him home a couple of days ago."

I'd be lying if I said Yugi's death glare could be paralleled. It had such an intense level of both rage and embarrassment that I was astounded Pharaoh hadn't burst spontaneously into flames due to its power. It was clear that the others knew this was soon to be the beginning of a very amusing spat, one that would be best watched with popcorn. Tristan was even starting to feel a bit better, despite not knowing where his wallet was. Probably inside some lady's ankle-biter. _I call dibs on any square Chihuahuas._

The shorter of the two violet-eyed lookalikes found this to be anything but funny. The glower just as strong as ever, Yugi snarled out his defense, his hands fisted at his sides defiantly, "It wasn't a Chihuahua, it was a rabid bear! I told you that before!" He stopped and continued in a low mutter, "And you said you wouldn't bring it up again!" A bright pink flush dusted the small boy's delicate skin, giving him an innocent and sweet appearance. He was almost cute when he was ready to kill someone.

His near-twin sent him a sneaky grin as he remarked, apparently having noticed some fine print in his and Yugi's mental contract, "No, you told your grandfather not to mention it to anyone. You never said I couldn't. And besides, I didn't say _how_ you got the wallet." He seemed pretty darn proud of himself for having thought of that. I had to admit, I would've been just as quick to pat myself on the back for that one, even if it was one of the most clichéd loopholes ever looped.

The tiny bit of comfort Pharaoh gave Yugi did nothing to improve his mood. "You know, for being the only _good_ guy to come out of a Millennium Item, you can be a real jerk." Their friends giggled at the ever-so-common best friend squabble, the argument's participants even joining their laughter after a moment of scowling at one another.

The sound of the cheer was sweet, innocent, and—if I dare go so far—perfect. It was the tune that would reverberate within the walls of heaven, this joyous sound shared so simply between friends. I would even go as far as to say that I could see that bright, sunny place through them as if they were kaleidoscopes pointed toward the sky. I felt stupid for thinking it, but it made companionship seem truly worth something.

I wasn't sure why, but a show of such close friendship made me smile both inwardly and outwardly. It made me feel…funny. Not like ha-ha funny, but more like…weird-funny. The kind of feeling you got while with somebody special. You felt as if everything was right for once, that the person you were with had been made for you and you alone. I felt as if…I wasn't sure, to be honest. All I knew was that I wanted to feel that way forever. Nonetheless, it was more realistic for a hazard like me to hope for at least a single day alone with such a feeling.

Duke glanced down at his watch subconsciously as his friends laughed, his smile fading when he did. "Time sure does fly when you're having fun," He cast a sly grin over at Tristan, who only responded by glaring and sticking his tongue out at the ravenette in a childish manner. But, you have to admit it does get the point across. "I've gotta run, got a meeting with a gaming company that wants to have its merchandise sold at my shop." Beginning to turn away, he sent a wink in Serenity's direction before leaving. Thankfully, he took a path that would not bring him to notice Melvin and me.

The remainder of the group continued on, heading in the direction of where the Muto house could be found. However, Tristan was still peeved about that wink, and held no hesitation when it came to ranting about it. "The nerve of that guy! Winking at _my_ woman!" He held his head high, his nose wrinkled up like he'd just smelled something absolutely disgusting, like gym socks that had been dipped in egg yolks before being thrown into a sauna.

Despite the fact that Serenity was there and probably could've defended herself, Joey took the responsibility upon himself to do so. "My sister is _not_ your woman. And if you bring that up one more time, I'm gonna duct tape your head to a light post, " Joey's voice showed his irritation, but it still had a lightness about it that made it clear he wasn't exactly angry with his friend. When Joey reached the point of being enraged, Tristan would know. His head would be duct taped to a pole about then.

"So, Yug, what were you saying about Yami this morning?" The well-built blonde turned and looked down at Yugi with a hint of confusion glinting in the corner of his eye. I figured it was mostly coming from all that could be paired with what he recalled from their earlier conversation. "Something about a body?" …Anybody's mind could pair all kinds of crap with a statement as broad as that.

However, since I already knew exactly what Yugi had been referring to, my attention was captured immediately. Knowing more about how these three spirits (I was almost positive there were three, anyway) had gained their own bodies thanks to my gemstone could possibly unlock all kinds of other secrets, no matter if they would end up meaning nothing to me. The voice had let slip a few things about the variscite, but had mainly left me to decipher all of its incredible powers (and fail at trying to use them) on my own.

At least I had Melvin to give me a hand, now.

Speaking of him… I glanced over at the tanned teen walking in a hushed manner beside me. He seemed as eager to eavesdrop on this new conversation as I was, but probably for a reason that differed from mine. I wasn't sure if he knew that it was because of the variscite that he was here with me, evil incarnate, since nothing that he did or said hinted towards that knowledge. Aside from the fact that he'd stated he knew a great deal about the variscite. But how much did he know?

Yugi was silent for a moment after Joey's inquiry, thinking over all the ways that he could bring his friends into this new and unexpected predicament. He had to convey the seriousness of the situation to them, making them see that there was a lot of danger despite the fact that nothing deadly had gone on quite yet. He knew something was coming; it was only a question of when. "Well, there's not a whole lot to tell, Joey. I'm not sure what happened, Pharaoh has no idea, and Grandpa was too worked up over the girl who broke into the Game Shop a couple days ago to be able to think clearly—" Melvin glanced at me curiously; I grinned and pointed at myself with my thumbs arrogantly, bringing a smirk to his face. "—She really had him freaked out.

"Anyways, all we know for sure is that Pharaoh didn't do this—and if he did, he doesn't know how. That must mean that it's not the Millennium Items doing this, and that it's something else, another magical object or something. We're not sure what it could be, but Grandpa said that he'd ask Professor Hawkins about it soon. But for now, we're basically wandering around completely blind here.

"Now, this is where the real problem comes in. I've been thinking that it wouldn't make sense for Pharaoh to be the only spirit to get his own body like this. You'd think that whatever is doing all this would affect more than just him. And, according to what Ryou and Marik have told me, it has…" Yugi trailed off into silence, his eyes clouded over with anxiety over the importance of the hazardous position he and his loved ones were in.

Everyone stopped. As they turned slowly to stare at the deliverer of bad news, I could see in their eyes their hope that this was merely a cruel joke, even though such a thing wouldn't be like their Yugi at all. They wanted the miniscule hero to have had an odd personality-change overnight, and that scaring the crap out of them was his new pastime. Their fearful souls prayed that his words were anything but the truth their hearts dreaded.

But Yugi Muto gazed back at them strongly, knowing it to be the truth even if he wished it wasn't. Of course, he hadn't had a run-in with either of the two malevolent spirits yet; he would've mentioned it right off the bat if he had. Nevertheless, being their number one nemesis, it was only a matter of time until he was reunited with a certain schizophrenic Egyptian. Judging by the psychotic smile creeping onto Melvin's face, he didn't have very long to wait. None of them did.

Joey was the first to find his voice, albeit it was soft and quiet as a piece of fleece fluttering in a breeze. "So, what you're saying…is that Melvin and Bakura can go romping around doing whatever they want, and there's next to nothing we can do to find 'em and stop 'em because we don't know what set them off in the first place?" His eyes were downcast as he spoke such hopeless words, the once bright and sparkling brown of them clouded over like a warm ray of sunshine being blotted out by a thunder storm. A storm that wanted nothing more than to bring devastation to all effected by its intense wrath.

Yugi shook his head from side to side, his blonde fringe tossing itself about as if dancing at the movement. He removed his gaze from the concrete at his feet and looked at Joey, his eyes taking on less of the solemnity and replacing it with a vigilant glint. As he tried to calm those around him, his voice strived to sound more tranquil than it had previously, "I'm just saying that with the possibility of them being out and about, we have to be really careful about where we are, who we're with, and at what times.

"Bakura and Melvin have more than enough experience and skill to be able to get any one of us whenever they feel like it. We all need to make sure that we're not out after dark—especially not if we're alone. Being alone right now is like suicide. All of us know how important our friendship is, but this goes much deeper than that. This is the difference between life and something much worse than death.

"I'm not telling you guys this to get you worked up, but I thought that you might want to know what we're up against right now. Sure, they're enemies that we've fought before, but that doesn't make them any less dangerous," It was so quiet after Yugi stopped talking that I could just barely hear each and every single one of them breathing, their hearts beating madly within their ribcages, their souls quivering with fear. It was more beautiful than any sunset that I'd seen.

Pale green eyes were met by a set of deep violet as Melvin and I glanced at each other, both pondering Yugi's little speech. Melvin's face grew a devious and venomous grin after a moment or two; I wasn't sure what it was for, but it poured adrenaline into my blood. It was the exactly like the smile that the infamous Joker had. But I knew for certain that the Joker himself would fear the spirit who stood before me, for he was Satan himself locked within human bonds. I held a small fear of him within my heart, not knowing for sure what he was capable of.

I felt more intrigue and respect than fright, though. Having no clue of the standards he had was something to shudder about, but I knew that we had made a deal, and he seemed more than willing to keep it. To keep me. Besides, he seemed pleased that I was here to share his love of the dark side of life. To think that I could be considered a friend to this being was incredible. Impossible.

But here I was, standing beside him and sharing his demonic smirk.

Finding Yugi's pep-talk regarding himself humorous, Melvin threw his head back and let loose a deep laugh, the thick noise echoing out from his throat in a way that was almost menacing. The sound was dripping with bloodlust and malice, threatening all who heard it and causing the strongest of men to crumple to the ground in fear of their impending death. Not to mention it was contagious as hell.

Feeling an uncontrollable snickering crawling up from my chest, I gave the sensation as much freedom as it wanted. The devilish, excited noise rang like church bells down the alleyway, bouncing off everything in sight like it was a ping pong ball. I'd laughed like that before, but it felt so different when someone else was with me, especially when my notorious snicker was blending with another's.

My dark-hearted giggle was much quieter than the Egyptian's murderous chortle; I'd made sure to keep myself somewhat under control. Just to be certain that the two of us weren't overheard by the ears of those 'heroes'. The last thing that I wanted to have to deal with was something like that. Like _them_.

But one did hear us.

The brown-haired girl's eyes shot up from where they'd been intently staring at the ground, rapidly filling with horror and fear. She was the only one to come to attention at our laughter, her friends too busy with their own thoughts to care about what they may have or may not have heard. They probably assumed that it was just their overactive imaginations trying to force them into believing that there was danger afoot. Tea had known the difference between nightmares and reality, and this was one of the times where that line didn't matter. Reality had become the nightmare.

The tall girl twisted around so fast that I half expected to hear one of her joints snap. Her soft blue eyes widened and her face contorted in complete and utter dread at the sight of the two of us. I cast her a grin thick with evil intentions, a cheerful little wave accompanying it gladly. I minded a bit that she knew we were here, but not nearly enough to make me give a crap.

I actually thought that it was thrilling; the fear in her eyes, the knowledge that I was superior to the likes of her…it was intoxicating. I'd never experienced drugs, nor did I intend to, but I could only assume that they made one feel just like this. There was no perfect way to describe it, no one word came anywhere near close enough to do it justice. It was too wonderful.

But my devious high was cut short by Melvin grabbing onto the arm that was currently giving the 'friendly' wave. I looked at him oddly, perplexed as I wondered if having our cover blown upset him at all. My mind returned to its contentedness when I saw that he was still grinning. He didn't seem to care that she had seen us; however, he knew that it was best we got away while she was still lost in her fearful stupor.

As Tea got over her paralyzing fright and began to turn to alert the others, Melvin acted. Strong fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist, he dragged me into the closest alleyway, forcing me into a run by shoving me forward. I was still a tad puzzled by his actions, though. Swiftly pivoting so I could face him while still running, I voiced by befuddlement, internally hoping that I wouldn't trip on anything while running backwards, "Why should webe the ones to run away? We can take them—we can kill them! Can't we?"

Melvin smiled at my eagerness (I could tell the jerk was hoping I would trip and fall on my head). His demonically unfathomable voice consoled my restless soul as he casually answered, "The sun betrays us; there are far too many people to be able to get away with it. Besides, that kind of thing takes planning. There's much more to murder than running up and stabbing someone."

I cocked my head to the left a bit, questioning him wordlessly. Melvin all but smacked me upside the head at the gesture, but settled for rolling his eyes at me. "Yes, that does get the job done, but it doesn't get it done right. When it comes to something that matters, timing is everything.

"You and I will have their blood on our hands when the time comes, and not before." His tone told me that this was the final judgment on the matter and for me not to bring it up again. I nodded at this, trusting that he knew what he was talking about and would stay true to his word. We would slice the throats of those do-gooders one day, and it would be a glorious day indeed. The dirt of the earth would be stained red with their blood, and the skies would cry for the loss of the heroes.

But the villains, the lovers of darkness, and the embracers of evil would cheer. They would dance in the streets, their clothes and skin soaked by rain and blood. Their shouts and jeers at those who feared them would resound so loudly that heaven's gates would shatter, the angels' ears bleeding profusely at the obscene noise coming from below them. Those who feared the night would cower in the corners of their rooms with guns in their hands and tears streaming down their faces, praying that no one with dark desires would be able to find his way inside.

We would; there would be no stopping us. And when we did, we would throw the head of a hero at the person's feet and watch them squirm, listen to the sound of their disgusted screams and gasps. They wouldn't have to fret for long, though. It would be much more fun to let them taste what it felt like to have their throat cut out with a switchblade knife.

Melvin stopped me quickly, practically giving me whiplash as he wrenched me from my thoughts. Glaring at him for the abruptness of his actions, I let out an annoyed little puff as I blew my bangs out of my face. Only to have them fall right back to cover my left eye like always. In response to the attitude, the Egyptian psycho scowled at me and gave my hair a bit of a tug. Not a lot, but enough to get his point of 'shut up and pay attention' across.

After receiving my full devotion, the Egyptian pointed around a corner of the building we were standing beside. "Listen," he commanded me quietly, his hand dropping back down to his side. Inching closer to the corner, he glanced around the brick, eyes scanning the area before him. Melvin gestured for me to join him without turning, merely giving me a 'come hither' wave with his fingers.

I complied wordlessly, coming to stand beside him obediently. Striving to listen for whatever had caught my newfound friend's attention, I closed my eyes, trying to force all my focus on my sense of hearing. Voices sliced through the chilly autumn air to my patient ears, voices that I recognized. They were a decibel above whispers, dripping with all that was good in the world, and fearing that which the world refused to accept.

Yugi and his posse.

"I'm telling you guys, I saw him!" Tea exclaimed in a soft but urgent voice, her eyes exasperated as they searched the faces of her friends for any sign that one of them believed her story. No one seemed to at this point. "He was standing right behind us and laughing! And he was with some girl with black hair and pale skin that waved at me like she knew something we didn't, and –"

She was silenced when Pharaoh reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively, reassuring her that all was right. Attempting to make her believe she was safe with him there, he told her gently, "Tea, we looked all over that street and no one saw or heard anything that could even be considered proof of what you saw. It was all in your head. You're just letting all this talk of Melvin and his games run rampant with your imagination." He rubbed her tense shoulder lightly as a few others in their startled group nodded their heads, agreeing with Pharaoh's imagination theory.

However, the poor confused girl still held to the image burned in her mind's eye. "But I know I saw them! I…I just know it…" As she trailed off, her mind wandering back into itself to ponder the occurrence, Pharaoh continued to rub her shoulder soothingly. His strong purple eyes became soft and warm like velvet when they rested upon the girl's downcast face. It was as if he cared for her, more than one would for someone that they only considered to be a friend. His gaze was similar to what Melvin's had been when looking at Serenity.

It wasn't hard to see that Melvin was interested in the Wheeler girl, though he would never state such a thing as being true. I assumed that the man known as Pharaoh would react the same was someone to ask him if he liked this girl, Tea: automatically denying any emotion. His actions suggested otherwise, though, and it was easy to trace his heartfelt longings through the many colors in his eyes.

The tanned being at my side seemed to notice my hesitation; of course, he didn't know what it was because of. I couldn't stop myself from wondering what he'd say if he did have any idea of my mind's current focus. But he said nothing at all, nor seemed interested in my daydreams. After poking me curiously in the shoulder, he pointed after the group, his eyes asking me why I wasn't trailing after them.

I nodded for no particular reason before pushing away from the wall, my pick-up fast and quiet as the both of us moved stealthily back to the group of anxiety-ridden teens. Buildings and stands provided little cover as we dodged other students and employees making their way home. I lost sight of Yugi and his friends for a couple of times, but eventually caught back up with them as they arrived at the Muto's residence.

Melvin and I watched them from behind the same wall I'd taken refuge against after narrowly escaping from my second 'adventure' within the home. They seemed a bit calmer now, more relaxed knowing that they were at a place that they considered safe, even if that very establishment had already been broken into twice by yours truly. But, I suppose that some places never lost that tone of well-being, that promise of safety that only a loving home could give.

Upon his arrival at the house, Yugi got a sudden and unexpected little grin on his face that was actually a bit scary (at least, as scary as someone like Yugi could be). He jogged off towards the other side of the house, his absence going unnoticed by his friends since they were preoccupied with their own little spat. "Did you guys know that the banana tree isn't actually a tree?"

Everyone cast Joey a disbelieving glance.

"That's impossible," Tea exclaimed with a puff of skepticism, arching away from the blonde as if keeping herself from being infected by whatever stupidity virus was coursing through his veins. It was the new Plague: the Black Banana. "If it's not a tree, then why is it called a banana 'tree'?" A just-try-and-answer-that-Mr.-Smarty-Pants smirk was cast in the elder Wheeler's direction, only to be received with an indifferent shrug.

Joey dug in his pocket for a little while before he began to answer, his eyes expressing much determination to get at whatever lay within the confines of his jeans pocket. A moment or two of suspenseful silence passed by, and I found myself eager to see what he would magically bring out of his pocket (my excitement made Melvin roll his eyes at my amateur-villain-ness. Totally worth it). A flash of silver caught my eye; Joey grinned as he began gleefully playing with a miniature slinky. "I don't know, maybe because it looks like a tree. It's really a giant herb that's—"

"My whole way of life is a lie!" Tristan's words were shot from his mouth with such magnitude that I thought I heard the shingles on the Muto's roof rattle. A couple pigeons took off as if running for their lives, and I could hear the remains of an echo. To make a long story short, the Taylor kid had quite the set of lungs. His hands covered his ears so that he couldn't hear any more of what Joey was saying about the origins of the banana, his eyes closed tightly as he mumbled to himself, "I'm not listening, I'm not listening!" His outburst earned him both an awkward silence and an odd glance from everyone.

Joey stared at him for a moment before continuing with what he'd started to state before. "…It's really a giant herb that looks like it's pretending to be a palm tree," A smile crawled slowly onto Joey's face as his brown eyes stared out into the distance, his hands still playing absentmindedly with the happy slinky (I could've sworn I saw the thing smile). "Kinda weird if you think about it…"

Opening his eyes and taking his hands about an inch or two away from his ears, Tristan voiced a random assumption in a matter-of-factly manner, obviously having heard Joey's mentioning of the tropical tree, "…So, it's like Melvin, then?" The insult directed at Melvin's hair earned a laugh from most everyone, most of it coming from Tristan himself. Pharaoh was definitely a close second, though.

Melvin was the least amused. And it looked to me like Serenity had zoned out throughout that whole conversation (not surprising. They were ranting about banana trees. Who does _that_?).

I could hear his teeth grinding as he snarled, the Eye of Wdjat glowing brightly in the center of his forehead. "I'll show you a palm tree!" Millennium Rod gripped firmly in hand, he began to storm towards the unsuspecting group of do-gooders. It was clear to anyone with any sort of brains what he was planning to do upon reaching them, and they wouldn't like it one bit. Even if any of them were masochistic.

Remembering how he'd told me about making our move and the whole planning thing, I grabbed onto his arm to try and stop him, only to end up getting dragged along a ways. Throwing my entire weight back as hard as I could, I managed to drag him back a foot or two, all the while trying to talk him down from his rage. "No, Mr. Palm Tree! Do not bring your wrath upon the people! They know not what they've done!"

It didn't appear to be helping anything. "They'll know in a friggin' second!" Melvin fought against my vice-like grip, but was unable to wrench his arm away from me. He settled for dragging me along with him as he trudged towards the group of teens still talking about all the oddities of bananas. I thought I heard something about nuclear weapons, but I wasn't sure what _that_ was about. My focus was mainly on keeping Melvin from killing all of them…which was kind of the opposite of what I'd wanted to do about an hour ago.

"You said it wasn't their time to die yet!" I argued viciously, earning a distasteful growl from Melvin's throat for using his own words against him. Now he wasn't pleased that I paid so much attention to him. "You told me we needed to plan first!" Melvin slowed to a stop, and I held back a grin, hoping that my repeating his own logic would convince him to take a couple steps down from his current state of insanity. I was certain that I'd bested him in this little battle.

Melvin turned back just long enough to scowl darkly at me; I gazed back at him, unaffected by the ominous glow of malice in his eyes. "Fine. Here's my plan," He started up with the trek again, and it was all I could do to keep him from going any further. I kept my fingers wrapped tightly around his forearm, facing the other direction as I attempted to drag him the opposite way. It was working about as well as trying to run away from a creeper while stuck on a treadmill. It just doesn't work. "Step one, walk up and stab the living crap out of their skulls. Step two, laugh heartily. Step three, tell you to _let go_ of my friggin' arm!"

Finally wrenching his limb free of my vice of death, the clinically insane Egyptian glowered at me, his gaze as sharp and pointed as a thumb tack. He didn't make any move to go closer to the group, however, leading me to believe that he'd either listened to me or had remembered just how bad of an idea it was to kill someone (let alone multiple people) in the middle of the street in the middle of the day. Something in my gut told me it was probably the latter of the two.

For whatever reason, I felt the need to say something. Something to appease his anger, get his mind off the homicidal thoughts that were still fresh within the retreats of his sadistic mind. "…Thank you…" There wasn't a single part of my brain that could fathom why I'd chosen to say that little phrase, but it had felt like the thing to say. I'd been meaning to say it, although I had no real clue why. Still, it felt nice to get it out.

Melvin seemed as taken aback by the almost random words as I had been (and still was). His brow arched the tiniest bit as he pondered aloud, his voice showing me his lack of understanding in regard to my statement, "For what? Not killing those little ticks?" A small smile danced onto my lips, my mind flooded with little scenarios of the 'good guys' being shrunk to the size of parasites, only to end up being crushed beneath the heel of their opponents. It almost made me snicker.

I really wasn't sure what to tell Melvin, though. It had pleased me that he'd eventually listened to my appeals and had ceased his attempts, but I wasn't thankful for the fact that Yugi and his friends still breathed. Though, in all honesty, I didn't really care if we killed them or not. From what I'd seen, they weren't wasting the oxygen they took in, and I only wished harm upon those who did. Melvin wanted them dead, wanted that Millennium Puzzle. I would help him.

But why had I said 'thank you'?

_You're grateful for Melvin, you idiot. That's why._ My own thoughts stunned me, my grin turning to a flat, contemplative line. It was true, I was glad that I was no longer alone, that I now had someone with me, someone who could accept what I was. Someone who was just as happy as I was to find another human being who had the same basic goals and wants in this life, even if neither person had any idea why he craved what he did. That didn't explain why I had _voiced_ such an emotion, however.

My irritating inner voice had the answer to that one, too. _Because you're a numbskull who doesn't know what makes the world spin. That's why. _I scowled at the self-inflicted insult, but knew that I had nothing to counter with that would help me out. In the end, I explained myself quite simply to Melvin, offering an uncertain shrug and a sheepish grin. He accepted it with a roll of his eyes, making me chuckle quietly.

When I returned my eyes to the group of teenagers that we'd been stalking for the past while, I saw that Yugi had returned. He had come back from the other side of this house, and was holding something behind his back as he strode forward purposefully. A devious grin was resting sneakily upon his lips, his big eyes glowing brightly. "Ohhh, Pharaoh!" His voice took on a singsong-y nature as he called out to his friend.

The taller of the two violet-eyed boys turned at his friend's beckoning, only to have his smile wiped from his face when Yugi unsheathed his 'weapon': a hose. Seeing the bad situation he was in, his friends took a couple of precautionary steps backward. Pharaoh raised his hands in submission, starting to back away from Yugi as well. He was about to try talking his twin out of whatever he was planning, but was cut off by the hose, the heavy spray of water drenching him and sprinkling the others.

Yugi seemed mighty proud of himself, clearly pleased with his fool-proof plan of drench-and-conquer. After a moment or two, the 'dangerous' teen turned the water off, smirking gleefully at his lookalike. "That was for the Chihuahua!" For his first evil-ish act against a superior (in this case, someone taller than him), he did…an all right job. Not as effective as a stabbing, of course, but he was creative. I would give him extra points for that.

Pharaoh wasn't obliged to have been the recipient of Yugi's sudden switch to the not-so-light side. Snarling at his hikari, the dark-eyed teen started heading toward Yugi. Seeing the drenched hazard coming towards him, the second Wielder of the Millennium Puzzle took off in search of safety. His dark attempted to catch up to him by running as well, but the wet leather pants he wore sort of prevented that. A lot.

He had to settle for a very animated waddle.

The eccentric toddle combined with the determined expression on Pharaoh's face was too much for me to take. I held my aching ribcage as my lungs erupted with laughter, my eyes filling with tears. I couldn't seem to get any air into my system I was laughing so hard. I could hardly stand; crumpling to my side upon the ground, I rocked back and forth as I rode out the giggle-fit.

Melvin was confused as hell about my reaction. He stared at me throughout the whole ordeal, starting from the moment I started snickering till I dropped to the ground by his feet. Crouching down beside me, the Egyptian took the Millennium Rod from his belt and looked at it blankly for a moment. He then started to poke me with it, the sharp tip hurting slightly, but my extreme ticklishness weighing out the pain and causing me to laugh even harder.

"St-sto-op!" I choked out through snorts of laughter, trying desperately to roll onto my stomach and hide my embarrassing ticklish nature. Breathing deeply to calm myself down, I sighed deeply before glaring up at Melvin with an unintended smile (kind of took power away from the glower, but I didn't care). He didn't smile back, but merely prodded at my side again with the Rod, earning a squeak and a snicker. _This is gonna be a _long_ day…_

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><p>Night had set in an hour or so ago, the once bright blue sky now tainted with darkness. The only light came from the crescent moon and the handful of stars that were able to blast through the pollution of the city's lanterns. The light from the stars made the thin but fluffy clouds glitter, their silver shapes sparkling and appearing heavenly against the contrasting black of the sky.<p>

I watched the clouds being pushed and played with by the autumn breeze through the closed glass doors of the balcony, imagining what it might feel like to be a cloud. To be free like that, and to fly like that. To have no one to answer to, to spend all day and every day being pummeled by the ever-loving breeze. But I wasn't a cloud; I couldn't do the things that they could.

That was all right, though. There were some things that I could do that clouds couldn't. Clouds couldn't stab people. Clouds couldn't steal Millennium Items and tomatoes. Clouds didn't get to bother the crap out of Melvin like I did. Well, maybe they did.

_Speaking of him…_ I turned away from the glass and looked over at Melvin. He was seated on the couch watching something on the television a couple of yards away from where I was standing. He seemed less than interested in whatever show was on, but was focusing more on his thoughts than what the eccentric man on the screen was rambling about.

Just knowing that he was there made me happy, for whatever reason. He didn't have to be paying any attention to me for me to be pleased with his presence, and he seemed to know that on some level. I never tried to get him to participate in casual conversations like the old 'how was your day?' scheme, and I could tell he was glad I wasn't the type who thought there was something wrong if two people weren't _always_ talking.

However, there was something that I was curious about.

According to what I'd learned so far, it was because of the variscite and my lack of control over its powers that the three spirits came to have their own bodies. Each of the spirits' Items had to have some kind of contact with me (either a physical touch or merely being in my presence apparently worked) in order for them to receive the power to create their own human forms. Two came from Millennium Items, the Ring and the Puzzle. I'd met the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, Pharaoh, but had yet to meet the other officially.

But what about Melvin? The ancient voice had said nothing about him being from the Millennium Rod, and if he had come from the Rod then he should've manifested in my presence. But he hadn't. I'd found him in the mental-help clinic, in a locked isolation cell. So, how did he get his own body? Where was he from? If he wasn't a spirit like the other two…what was he?

Moving away from the balcony, I came and sat on the other side of the couch, opposite Melvin. I thought over how I wanted to word my multiple questions tentatively, unsure of how to get them across. Lavender orbs glanced at me momentarily, watching me intently as I allowed my mind to borrow my voice. "Melvin, if you're not like the other ones—the guys who came out of the Items—then what's different about you?" My words left my mouth hesitantly, each one testing the air as a young child would check the temperature of a pool with his toes.

"It surprises me that it took you so long to ask," Melvin chortled lightly, flicking the television off and swiveling to face me completely. He crossed his legs Indian-style; it made me feel as if he were some native chief about to tell me a story about buffalo. I wouldn't put it past him.

I brought my legs up to me, holding them tightly to my chest as I tried to get myself comfortable. By the look on Melvin's face, I could tell that this was going to be a long story. "You're right. I am different from those two fools, in more ways than one. But we don't need to get into this _that _specifically."

He gestured to himself with his hands, a smile that almost seemed proud residing on his lips. "I am actually a kind of imaginary friend that Marik came up with. A split personality. He went through a very traumatizing event as a child—a couple of them, now that I think about it—and lots of hate, pain, and anger filled his soul because of it. Marik felt like there was no one who could understand what he was going through besides himself, so he made his own friend who could. He formed me out of all his dark emotions. He didn't know it then, but he had.

"I resided quietly within his mind, hiding my true intentions for months before making my move. I killed his father and nearly drove him and his friends mad. Marik, eventually, was able to best me, and everyone thought that he'd destroyed me. But, as a part of his mind, I will only die when he dies.

"I was locked back up in his mind, my presence kept hidden from his knowledge like an insidious disease. His 'decimation' of me was enough to break down my strength, so I was unable to take over his mind or harm him in any way. Let alone anyone else. But that changed when he ran into you.

"Thanks to your skill-less-ness—" _Gee, thanks. Way to put it gently, Melvin._ "—I was able to absorb the power your variscite was giving off. My strength had returned to me in full by nightfall, and I planned to overtake Marik's mind when he went to sleep. But my plotting was thwarted when I realized that I was still being affected by the variscite; it was still pounding vitality into my being.

"So, when Marik did finally fall asleep, the variscite's still-lingering powers practically ripped my soul away from Marik's body, and I manifested into what you see sitting before you right now," Having been making little hand gestures throughout his whole life story, Melvin finally let his hands rest in his lap. Locking his bright yet dark eyes upon me (who was still wondering what Marik had suffered through to make him capable of creating a villain as great as he who sat before me), Melvin let out a small sigh through his nose. "Does that answer your question?"

_Not even half of them. _"I only have one more, then I'll leave you alone," Melvin shrugged indifferently, apparently not all that bothered by my handful of questions. It was probably going to end up being a blessing that multitudes of inquiries didn't drive him insane. I drummed my fingers against my chin as I thought of how I wanted to force my thoughts into actual words. "…If you…manifested at Marik's place, how did you end up in the asylum where I found you?" For the first (and probably last) time in my life, my mind and mouth cooperated with one another. It was a freaking miracle.

A grin crept menacingly onto Melvin's face, his lip curling back to show his pearly white teeth. His eyes looked as if they'd been shrouded with malice, their bright sheen becoming foggy. The Bearer of the Millennium Rod appeared lost in a strange haze of recollection that I'd witnessed in no one before this. "Funny story about that," He chortled darkly, an involuntary shudder scratching its cold fingers down my spine at the sound. It was different from the contagious laughter that I'd heard from him earlier. This was something you'd hear before having your eyelids cut off.

He leaned a bit closer to me, as if wanting to spill some gossip he'd heard at the soccer-mom meeting. His voice dropped like an elevator plummeting to the basement floor, the demonic tone becoming soft like a ghoulish whisper, the gentle breeze before a thunderous storm. "I stood over his bed in awe of what had happened to us. I could barely contain myself; I had my own body, separate from _him_! I could kill him without killing myself, I could do everything that I'd always wanted to and he would be unable to stop me by butting his foolish little mind into all of my plots.

"Lost in my thoughts, I was unprepared when he awoke so suddenly, as if he'd sensed the change within his psyche. When he saw me, he all but completely flipped out. He shouted for his sister and adopted brother, trying to keep me away from him by throwing anything and everything that he could pick up at me. It's possible he could've killed me if you hadn't taken the Millennium Rod from him.

"Nevertheless, he got out of his bedroom and took refuge in the kitchen. I'm still not sure how he did it, but he somehow was able to wedge himself up between the ceiling and the cabinets. As far as I know, that was the first time he'd done that, and it was kind of freaky. I tried to talk him down from his little perch, but he wouldn't pay heed to anything I said. His only response was to throw a cup at my face.

"However, he finally started talking to me when I asked about the Millennium Rod, saying he wasn't sure where it was. But I didn't get much else from him since that was about the time that Ishizu—his sister—came in and bashed me in the back of the head with a pan," He unconsciously reached back and rubbed the impact spot. It was all I could do not to wince. "The next thing I knew I was wearing that itchy uniform and had a little cell all to myself.

"Apparently, the Ishtar family had told the guards everything about my 'antics' since there was not one of them that was willing to go near my room alone. Or unarmed. Their fear of me only heightened when little…squabbles…started between me and some other inmates. That was about when I went to the unit you found me in, the isolation chambers.

"But that brings up a question of my own," A tanned hand reached out and touched my face, moving it this way and that as one would inspect a slave for his master's household. Melvin's flesh was soft and warm, but he handled my head roughly as he stared at me, looking for something in my eyes that would answer his wonderings. "The psychotic men I met wanted nothing to do with me. The guards were afraid to walk past me in the dark without guns. Marik and all his little buddies are absolutely terrified of all I am. And yet here you are, happy to have me. So, what's wrong with you?"

I laughed at his question, finding his 'way with words' a little funny. Albeit, a bit offensive. Smacking his hand from my chin with a grin, I stood up from my place on the couch. Grinning, I turned to head towards the kitchen, tossing my answer over my shoulder, "That's a pretty long list, Melli. Let's just say that I'm glad to have somebody who won't turn me into the cops and leave it at that.

"I'm going to bed. If I wake up dead, I'm going to stab you in the ear." To put emphasis on my threat, I took the blade that the Egyptian psycho had given me out of my pocket and gave it a bit of a twirl. The menacing point was lost when I was unable to catch the knife again and it thudded onto the floor. Knowing there was no way to recover and make it look like I'd meant to do that, I scowled at Melvin's chuckles and continued on, not even bothering to pick up the weapon. I pushed it along the floor with my toe instead.

Stepping into the room designated as my own, I could hear Melvin muttering something. I probably hadn't been supposed to hear it, but it brought a smile to my face nonetheless. "Not if I rip your liver out first..." Hearing that wouldn't make many people happy, but for whatever reason, it made me feel wanted. The voice in my head had never made me feel that way.

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><p><strong>I hope you guys liked reading this as much as I did writingworking with it :D I've already started working on Chapter 6, and I'm really excited about it because Yami Bakura finally makes his debut *cheers* ...Yeah. I'm planning on getting more work done on my other stuff as well, but hopefully I'll have it out pretty fast. It might take longer since I'm going to try to keep up with the editing and stuff, but that might get easier and faster as things go along.**

**Thanks for taking time to read :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**This took forever to finish XD But I'm reasonably pleased with how it turned out. I started to skip some parts I'd come up with near the end because I was really excited to finish up this chapter, but it's still pretty good even without those little parts.**

**Anyways, sorry again that it took so long to write this, and please enjoy the chapter :)**

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><p>Chapter 6<p>

The sultry smell of meat danced to the loud music that I had on the stereo. My mouth watered uncontrollably at the thick aroma the steaks gave off, my stomach angered by the fact that I wasn't letting it dive into the rare, bloody meat. I wasn't sure if I'd been around a food that could drive one insane if deprived of it before, but steak was starting to fit the description quite nicely.

Melvin's curiosity was the only reason we actually had these delicious morsels at our disposal. Marik and his siblings, being largely vegetarian, almost never had any kind of meat in their home, but the darker of the two souls had always been a bit on the adventurous side when it came to food. So, when at the store, he decided it was a good idea to buy a whole box of the things. And they had to be cooked _today_.

So, I got to have fun with the stove.

After a while of cooking in silence (I wasn't sure where Melvin had suddenly disappeared to. It was becoming a normal thing), I'd gotten sick of the quiet and had started blaring some music. The station that I'd tuned in to had a baritone's deep voice belting out a rock song about how fame and Hollywood weren't all that they were cracked up to be. The song seemed to amplify itself using the hard pounding of the bass and drums. The heavy beat drove itself into my bones and I started to twirl around the kitchen as I tended to the steaks.

Eventually, the throbbing of the music drove me to really start dancing around the room, playing with the variscite as I did so. Melvin had taught me a couple new tricks with it during the time that we'd been working together (about a week or so now, as far as I was aware), and I now knew how to make things levitate and move around and whatnot. Like telekinesis-type crap. It took a bit more focus than what it should've since I hadn't mastered the ability yet, but it was completely worth the effort.

Holding a hand out to the side mid-twirl, I gestured toward the ceiling with my fingers and a stool rose up shakily from the ground. It shuddered and quivered like a person would if without a coat in the middle of a blizzard, completely unused to its current place above the floor with nothing to brace itself against. But I forced it to remain that way even when I turned away from it to check on the steaks that were still cooking through in the pan. This was the third or fourth batch that I'd dealt with so far, and I had barely made a dent in the contents of the meat-crate.

A loud bang echoed out from behind me, scaring the crap out of me and making me jump; my hand lost its grip on the pair of tongs that I'd been using to flip the thick slabs of meat with. The metal utensil flew across the room, landing in the living room and skidding across the wood floor with a loud scraping noise. That was the least of my concerns at the moment. Spinning around wildly, I tried to figure out where the hell that thud had come from, only to realize that it had been the stool reuniting with the floor in a rather deafening manner.

Apparently, when it came to frying and using the variscite, I couldn't multi-task. Sucks.

Melvin thought that my near-death experience (I'd been having a lot of those ever since I met him. Hm.) was the most hilarious thing since bombarding innocent, unsuspecting people with balloons filled with spicy condiments. The creature of the night had practically materialized out of thin air and had appeared on the counter a couple of feet away from me. Currently, he was doing his best to laugh so hard I was certain he was going to pop a lung while also staying up on his little perch. He was doing a better job than I would've been.

I was about to retrieve the tongs and chuck them at him when something on the radio caught my attention. The song had changed, and now the apartment was being filled with a rough riveting, the sort of sound you'd expect to hear when an almighty demon was rising up out of the dirt, keen on stealing your soul away. " …It's true. We're all a little…_insane_…But it's so clear, now that I am…_unchained_… " The hushed soprano's words were not what had captured my ear's focus, but it was the mere beating and whispering within the chords and notes of the music itself. They reminded me of a nightmare-ish dream that I'd had a day or two ago.

I never mentioned it to Melvin since I hadn't understood what had gone on in it. From what I could remember, I'd been standing alone somewhere dark and empty, like a warehouse, except I was outside. The ground had been soft and plush, like clouds, and was the same black as thunderclouds. Every now and then, a strange light would flash across the floor, quick and bright as lightning. Wind howled around me and I could hear rain, though I felt nothing. Not even that wind.

Whenever the lights coming from the floor would go off, they would light up the endless space I was in, and I was able to see that I was not alone. There was a giant man standing some ways away from me, maybe a hundred meters at the most. I couldn't see him very well, but I could hear him talking with utmost clarity. However, I couldn't understand a word he was saying; he was speaking in some strange language that I'd never heard before.

The foreign presence had barely begun speaking by the time I awoke, more puzzled than frightened by the strange dream. What language—if it even was a real language—had that guy been talking in? What had he said? I could recall next to nothing that he'd stated; the syllables and twisting of his tongue had been so hard to follow. But if I had been able to repeat any of what he'd said who would have any clue of what that guy had been trying to tell me?

_Well…_ I turned from the stove slowly and stared at Melvin. He was smiling to himself about something, probably my reaction to the bang that the falling stool had made. I would kick the crap out of him for that later; however, right now, he might be able to help me. He was well acquainted with the supernatural aspect of things, as well as relics and items with spiritual power. Who was to say he couldn't identify this voice?

Abandoning the raw meat hissing in the pan, I left the kitchen and made a beeline for the stereo. After flicking it off, I came back to the kitchen and received a confused glance from Melvin. "What was that about? You have something against Evanescence?" The escaped mental patient grinned at me, most likely expecting an ecstatic response of some kind. I usually got pretty defensive when it came to music, especially the songs I really liked.

My face remained blank aside from a touch of befuddlement. Sitting down on a stool opposite where he was on the counter, I stared at my hands as I brought up the bothersome thoughts. "…Do you remember me talking about that…voice I hear? I think I mentioned him about a week or so ago, the morning after we met." Slowly dragging my eyes up from my folded hands, I searched Melvin's face for something I wasn't certain of. Maybe his belief that what I kept hearing was real.

His smirk was gone, no trace of it left behind. "…You're still hearing it after so long?" I nodded quietly, not trusting my voice to be able to answer any clearer. Melvin seemed puzzled at this newly unsheathed insight; he leaned back against the cabinets with his arms crossed over his chest. "That's odd. I expected it to leave as soon as it knew we were paying more attention to it than what was normal…" He absentmindedly rubbed his chin, his eyes staring hard at the floor as if he expected something to rise from it. "What has it said to you?"

Thinking it was a pretty broad question, I shrugged my shoulders slightly. "A little about a lot of things…Like I told you before, he talks about the variscite, the Millennium Items, and things like that. But now he's started saying that he wants me to do something for him, that I'm supposed to find somebody and…" I paused, feeling a cold chill set in despite the heat given off by the stove. Not because I was weary of the word hanging on my tongue, but because I could sense he was listening to me. "…Kill them.

"It's somebody specific, but he won't tell me who. I think he was trying to in a dream I had a night ago, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. Everything was in a weird language I couldn't decipher," I felt like I was explaining all the symptoms of my disease to a doctor as I locked eyes with Melvin. He gazed back at me with an emotionless air, but his eyes expressed a kind of serious interest. No worry or concern, only intrigue.

Sliding down from the counter, Melvin walked purposefully over to where I was seated, standing before me like a great ruler before his miserable kingdom. There was a darkness injected in my mind that he no I had placed there and neither of us understood its strange aura. I was not afraid of it, and I knew that Melvin would not be either; he feared nothing in or of this world. But I didn't like it.

It kept telling me to kill Melvin.

The blonde Egyptian wasn't the specified person that the entity wanted dead per se. That was someone else. But he wanted me to get away from Melvin, not matter what I had to do to do so. He chided me for thinking it would be wise to trust anyone, to be with anyone for long periods of time like this. Trying to reach me, get me to listen, he had threatened to kill Melvin himself if I would not obey him.

It had been a while ago that we'd had this conversation, but I could still remember how enraged that had made me. My blood had hissed like water thrown to sate the fires of hell, my soul freezing solid as my heart became unwilling to listen any more. I'd brought my hands to my head, my palms over my ears as I tried to blot out his voice. Instead of keeping him away with my hands, I'd made a barrier between us with the variscite.

The voice had not sounded since. At least not when I was awake.

He came to me nightly, sometimes just to talk about seemingly random things, but it had begun to be the same thing over and over again. That one thing was always me leaving Melvin's company and finding that person that needed to die for justice's sake. I'd wondered once if my mind had fabricated all of this out of my hatred for solitude, but the feeling of sickness that I awoke with after speaking with this…thing…convinced me otherwise.

This was a real thing, a thing I couldn't escape in my dreams. He had not threatened harm upon me yet, but I myself felt pained when he spoke of mutilating Melvin in ways that I dared not linger on. For the longest time, I'd tried to forget about the dreams and all that the voice had been saying to me, but now I knew that this was serious. Whatever it was, it was happening, and it was happening to me.

Reaching out his hand, Melvin brought his palm to my forehead like I did whenever I searched someone's memories. He accessed the green stone's power through my body, and I braced myself against the island counter, grabbing onto the top of it with one of my hands. Every time that I used this ability on someone, they would become weak and collapse almost instantly. However, I did not fall; I didn't even lose consciousness in any way.

Lifting my eyes from the floor, I raised them steadily and realized that my sight had not been stolen from me. I could see Melvin's face, watched his skin twitch and quiver as he searched for whatever remnants were left of the dream. I was curious to know if I could still speak despite this connection, or use it against him and enter his mind, but, for fear of disturbing his concentration, I restrained myself.

What seemed like an eternity passed by before Melvin removed his touch from my forehead. Royal purple eyes opened and stared at me, hard and emotionless like ice as they pierced my own, making my head bleed like a gutted animal or the victim of a brutal assault. A heavy silence passed between us, the smell of overcooked meat beginning to build thickly in the air. I could taste it every time I breathed in.

After a few moments, Melvin broke the bond our gaze had formed. His eyes moved down to my arm; he wrapped his fingers around my small wrist and slid my sleeve up my arm gruffly. The tattoo-like markings were revealed to him then, for I'd never shown them to him before, neither had I mentioned them. I hadn't thought that they mattered. They were just some weird black scribbles to me. They meant nothing. Right?

Not to Melvin. "Why didn't you tell me about this, Kushoku?" My pale eyes shot up and stared at him, stunned that he'd used my name. He never used my name unless it was important business he was talking about. The exotic teen used it so little, in fact, often times I found myself wondering if he didn't use it because he couldn't remember what it was most of the time. I wouldn't put it past him, truthfully.

I opened my mouth to stutter out some kind of reply, but he didn't give me any time to explain myself. His lips were already moving again, much faster now, as if he was coming close to solving a mystery that had evaded him for eons, "He was speaking in an ancient Egyptian tongue that's barely used nowadays. He was repeating the same thing over and over again for the most part, 'Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.' Your memory stopped recording the dream in the middle of a new statement, though, and all I heard him say was something about your arm.

"And now," He brushed his fingers over the markings as if they were some jewel his mind had been haunted by. A jewel he had finally stolen. "I see what he meant." Melvin paused for a moment, moving to push my sleeve up even further despite the fact that there were no more marks. But he kept inching it up my arm as if he was looking for where it would finally end. This reaction to the tattoo struck a chord of astonishment in my chest, and I glanced at my arm to see what he was staring at.

I was shocked to learn that I'd been wrong.

There were more markings than what I'd once thought. _Many_ more. I jerked my arm away from Melvin and sprinted to the bathroom, the full-body mirror being the only thing running through my mind. Aside from the sickness that was beginning to spiral all around my body, starting up in my head and dripping all the way down to my toes like a thick, sticky slime.

Slamming the door closed behind me, I slid to a stop in front of the mirror, my momentum almost making me tumble over and into the bathtub. I moved my other sleeve up as high as I could get it; I hadn't thought to check to see if there were marks there as well. They were. The black squiggles had barely concerned me until now. I hadn't thought that they would have anything to do with the strange voice that was now locked within my head, only coming to haunt me in my dreams.

I saw that the symbols trailed all the way up both of my arms, but still did not stop. All my movements were nearing the point of being frantic now, my mind racing and wondering what the hell this meant. Yanking my shirt off over my head in search of the place these characters would end, I held my black hair up with my hands and turned my back to the mirror. Swiveling to glimpse at my back, I hoped to see only skin that was unblemished by these odd, inky symbols.

But they were there, too. Albeit, not many; they trailed across my shoulder blades, making a perpendicular line with my spinal cord, staying in one straight line from wrist to wrist. I stared in a stunned silence for a moment or so, wondering how I could've been so oblivious as to have not noticed this until now. They were so dark against my skin, like splatters of pink paint on black cloth. Perhaps it was because I'd become accustomed to only seeing the marks on the one forearm. I just hadn't thought it possible to have more than that and I hadn't realized the falsehood in my thoughts.

Whatever the cause, it didn't matter. I knew they were there now, and the knowledge weight heavily upon my psyche. Actually, to be honest, it was the lack of knowledge. Why did I have these strange things so artistically written across my skin? There was no mistaking it; they had to be related to the voice in my mind, which was apparently fluent in both English and Egyptian. _One step closer to knowing who it is, I suppose…But what do these…_things_ mean?_

Usually, something like this would bother the crap out of me, this not being able to understand something. I'd gone through it with the variscite and the Millennium Rod (and a bunch of other things. It would take way too long to list everything), except now, I had someone who knew what was going on for once. "Melvin?" I called his name through the door as I slid my shirt back on. I continued to shout as I opened the door and headed back to the kitchen. "I need some professional help!"

"And lots of it…" Melvin mumbled loud enough for me to hear as I came into the kitchen. He was using the tongs I'd unintentionally discarded thanks to my lack of expertise and one very annoying chair (I'm gonna hate that thing for_ever_). Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, he dropped the mocking tone and became serious again. "If you're talking about what I think you are, then you probably don't want to know—"

I knew I should've stayed quiet and listened to what he had to say, but I couldn't stop myself from cutting him off thusly, "You know what the squigglies mean?" That had sounded _so_ much smarter in my head. _All right. Out of all the little particles that make up my brain, which one of 'em thought it was a good idea to let _that _come out?_ Despite the raised eyebrow that Melvin gave me, I attempted to pretend that I was still a respectable villain.

Even if I had said 'squigglies'.

Melvin snorted out a little laugh at the childish word. He turned away from the stove and crossed his arms, now facing me with a small grin. "They aren't 'squigglies'—" _You're never gonna let me live that down now, are you?_ "—they're hieroglyphics, and very well written ones at that. But, like I was trying to say before, you're probably not going to be very happy to know what they say. I'm going to assume that you want to know anyways, correct?" Melvin continued almost immediately after pausing, barely allowing me enough time to give a simple nod.

"…They are a curse. 'He shall be cooked together with the condemned; he shall be miserable and persecuted. The god of chaos declares it to be so.'" Melvin fell silent after repeating to me what the hieroglyphics stated, as if he was wondering if this would affect him. If he'd damned himself by agreeing to by a mentor to me. I could see he did not fear for his life, but was merely pondering who such a curse might be directed towards.

I too couldn't keep my mind from questioning the point of the dark spell. The 'he' in this was so broad, it could mean anyone that I came into contact with—random people that I passed by on the street, for crying out loud! Or was it intended to be for someone much closer to me, like a friend or…maybe even a lover. _Ha! That's doubtful. _Nevertheless, I wasn't sure what to do.

If it did affect Melvin, then, like it said pretty clearly, he'd be killed in the most malicious way that one could think of. The thought made every process within me stop cold, my whole world becoming quiet and empty like winter. I'd risked getting thrown into prison to find him, and now that I had, I could be the reason for his imminent demise. Was that the reason why the voice had told me it was best to remain alone? Or had this curse been placed to keep me alone?

My perplexing thoughts were interrupted when Melvin's unconcerned, calming voice sounded in my ears, "But that doesn't mean anything. Stuff like that was used to frighten thieves away from things they weren't supposed to have, like riches in tombs. It's nothing more than a bunch of empty words. Mere squigglies," I shot the Egyptian criminal a glare that could kill for mocking me with that same stupid word yet again. I'd been right; he was going to bring that up every chance that he could for the rest of my life.

"…If you think so…" I muttered unsurely as I shook myself from my paralyzed stupor and walked around Melvin, practically having to shove him out of the way so I could get to the cabinets. The steaks were all finished now, and I'd figured that I may as well find a container for them. As I stood up on my toes to reach a plastic bowl large enough to fit all of the meat in it, I glanced over at Melvin. He was happily watching me struggle, showing no sign of wanting to help me and my shortness get to said dish.

I ignored his irritating nature, having no intention of letting him help anyway. Instead of stretching for the plastic, I grabbed the tongs from the stove and used them as an extension of my hand. Grinning at Melvin, I flicked my wrist, aiming to hit him in the head with the light container when it shot out of the cupboard. My plan sort of backfired when it fell rather slowly and he had more than enough time to catch it. A snide smirk on his face, he tossed it to me; I caught my now least favorite bowl with a scowl, trying to pretend that that hadn't just happened.

Wanting to change the subject to something other than how good I was at failing, I decided to bring the spirit I kept hearing up again. With all this new insight to the voice thanks to the dreams and curse, there was a chance it may've slipped up and let a hint at who it was drop. And I was almost certain that it had. "At the end of the curse, you said something about the 'god of chaos'. Do you think that is just part of the curse, or could it be some kind of…you know, a signature?" My eyes came to rest on Melvin, watching him curiously as I used the tongs to put the browned meat into its new home.

"…So, what you mean to ask," Melvin tossed the bowl's cover to me like a Frisbee, which, surprisingly, I caught with reasonable ease. It was sad how happy that little feat made me. "is if the guy you've been hearing in your brain is the same person as who cursed you?" I nodded a 'yeah, basically' to him as I picked up the plastic dish and put it into the refrigerator. I thought it was weird that Melvin knew what my mind wanted to say, but I didn't. I wasn't sure if I should feel insulted or not.

Melvin thought for a moment before giving a confident answer, although it wasn't what I'd been hoping for, "Well, if you want a simple answer, then yes. According to what you've told me, the Egyptian god of chaos—called Set—has been living in your head for a while now." I closed my eyes as the door of the fridge thudded closed. I could almost feel the threads of my soul and psyche being toyed with, torn up and then meshed messily back together again as if it were putty. This all felt like it should be impossible, and yet here I was wedged in the middle of it.

"It's not like that makes a difference, though," Apparently sensing my extreme confusion and apprehension over having no clue of how to deal with having a god constantly watching my thoughts and actions, Melvin attempted to stop me from tearing my hair out. "Yes, an almighty being is stalking you, hoping you'll kill me, and wanting you to kill some other guy. But you're my underling; therefore, you've got nothing to worry about. I fear no god."

Stunned, I snapped around to face him, my eyes glowing with astonishment. But he'd already left the kitchen and had retreated to the living room. I let out a small snicker at the eccentric way he flopped down on the couch, literally leaping up into the air before landing on his back on the cushions. Bright yet dark violet eyes gazed up at the ceiling as he twirled the Millennium Rod around with his fingers.

I wasn't sure if there was ever a person that could even come close to what Melvin was. What he meant to me. Of course, it wasn't a romantic feeling at all, but it was just as strong as one. We bickered and argued often, but when I looked back at all those times, I couldn't help but smile about it. There was something about fighting with him that made it feel more like bonding than actual fighting. It was strange to me, but still…I'd never felt happiness like this before, and it hurt to think of life without him.

Abandoning the professional-looking kitchen, I joined Melvin in the living room, sitting down on the floor with my back propped up against the couch. A contented sigh drifted from me as I rested the back of my head against the muscular Egyptian's side, feeling his ribcage expanding whenever he breathed. It was comforting to have a living soul so close to me. I wasn't sure why such a thing felt so calming, but it did, and I left it at that.

Encouraged by the serene air, I raised my left hand and twisted my fingers this way and that, my eyes locked on a light bulb as I attempted to unscrew it. At first it did nothing but jiggle a tad, but my determination to accomplish this refused task to weaken. I continued to move my fingers in the way that Melvin had instructed me to, flipping them about like he was as he messed with the Millennium Rod. After a couple of minutes of this, the light bulb started to twist and come out of its spot, thus proving that I was getting better at using the variscite. At least when it came to telekinesis.

As if sensing my minute amount of pride and wanting to remind me that I still sucked at operating the powerful green stone, Melvin glanced down at me, poking me with the Millennium Rod lightly as he stated rather blandly, "You're going to need to know a lot more magic if that stuff is ever going to be useful. You know that, right?" Despite the flat line his lips made, his eyes were grinning at me, enjoying the touch of annoyance that could be traced in my face.

I scowled at him fiercely. "I've been practicing as much as I can. And besides, you haven't mentioned much stuff I can attempt to teach myself." Turning away from him, I returned the majority of my attention to looking for something to screw around with. I'd found that it was a good idea to go with something that wouldn't break. Or, at least something that if it did break, Melvin would be the only one capable of restoring it.

He hated it when I did crap like that.

"We need some kind of test dummy for most of that," Melvin replied nonchalantly, his eyes inspecting a tiny speck on the Millennium Rod in a scrutinizing manner. I would almost be willing to say that spot was scared witless of the Egyptian. Which, honestly, wasn't something that was all that surprising. "A living one, too—but preferably not me." He cast me a sharp glance as he flicked the small black dot off of the golden weapon in his fingers, as if he expected me to make some kind of smart-aleck remark.

I tried not to. Instead, I questioned him while trying to get the table in front of me to tilt upwards on the right side, "Why do we need something like that? I'm doing pretty well without having to make a human guinea pig implode." I heard Melvin chuckle behind me, probably having mentally pictured some random man being sucked into himself before suddenly bursting into a thick, red, gooey mess.

A quick mind-check with the variscite confirmed my suspicion.

Despite where his thoughts were currently at, he was still able to talk as if he knew a thing or two. "A lot of the things that the variscite can do look like parlor tricks, but there are plenty more that can be quite deadly, and to be able to do them properly you'll need to know what each and every one of them looks like when used on another living being. You need to know what the correct pain looks like. It's the only way to know if you're doing some of them right."

His face took on a bit more of a grave, serious expression as he explained the preference of not being said test monkey. "And I saw what you did to that cop who caught you trying to nab that ball of string—_Kamisama_ forbid what evil you can do with _string_—so I don't want to be the recipient of whatever you accidentally do." As if to make his point that much more fervent, Melvin threw the Millennium Rod across the room like a knife, the sharp tip of the handle thudding into the far wall. It stood out perfectly straight from its new perch.

I could easily understand Melvin's lack of a want to be impaled by me—which, knowing me, would probably be intended as a joke but then not quite turn out as a joke. But I still felt the need to at least be a pain a time or two more during this conversation. "First, it was yarn, not string—" Melvin shot me a look that said, 'You're kidding me' before raising his palms up and getting an, 'Oh, my apologies' look on his face. He smacked me roughly over the head, irritated by my need to bother the crap out of him.

Rubbing my now sore ear, I continued, pretending that nothing had happened. "—and second, where are we going to find somebody to use as a variable in our 'experiments'? Are we just going to go out, kidnap the first person we see, and do whatever the hell we want with him from there?" Of course, that sounded like it would work just fine, but it didn't seem like something that Melvin would want to do. Like he'd said before, he liked to have something somewhat elaborate planned out. Even if he didn't seem like the guy to think twice about murdering someone.

A thick silence set in between the two of us, the Egyptian lost to his thoughts once more. I attempted to amuse myself by playing with the variscite, but that even grew tiresome after a few moments more. Sure, it was an incredible weapon that could be used to bring on mass destruction and death, but it wasn't a very good thing to have when you were inexperienced and bored. It didn't do a whole lot for you then.

While looking for something else to occupy myself with, I noticed that one of Melvin's hands was hanging over the side of the couch, twitching every now and then as he thought deeply (it was actually pretty darn freaky). Not knowing what else to do, I took hold of his hand and pulled his arm down closer to me; I began to trace the lines in his palm, finding that it gave me some entertainment to do so. It made me feel like one of those fortune tellers who made stuff up about your future just by pretending to look at your hand for five minutes.

Melvin didn't seem to mind—or notice—my use of his hand. And if he did, then he wasn't showing it in any way. We both knew that I the strangely curious sort and I learned better when I was able to feel things, which was why I was always so touchy and close to him. I felt that it was easier to learn from him that way, for whatever reason. I knew that he'd noticed, but the exotic teenager seemed to know that I didn't mean anything romantic with how I acted. It was just how I was.

Without so much as a warning, Melvin shot into a sitting position, his hand being ripped from between my own in such an uncoordinated manner that he smacked me again. He didn't apologize; that wasn't his thing. But I knew that he hadn't intentionally done it this time. When I looked up at him with confusion scribbled across my face, I saw that he was grinning.

He glanced down at me with a devious, excited glint in his eye, the tiny sparkle matching the smirk that was currently etched across his lips. His voice was like black velvet as he purred demonically, "We're going on a limey hunt!" Despite the intriguing tone that his voice had taken on, I wasn't sure that there was anything more random that could've possibly spurted out of his mouth. For a moment I thought that I just hadn't heard him right.

But I knew I had, and even then I had absolutely no clue as to what the hell he'd just said. As if asking the lunatic to explain would help anything, I raised my eyebrow and repeated exactly what I'd heard: "…We're going on a who-ie what, now?"

* * *

><p>I tore down the sidewalk faster than a thief chased by royal guards, swerving and twisting to get through the sea of people that walked briskly in the opposite direction. I paid them little to no mind; I was looking for someone specific, and none of the pedestrians that I passed by were him. Besides, if one was the man I was searching for, Melvin was pretty far behind me, so he'd be able to pick him out of the crowd. Either way, there was no way he could escape our notice.<p>

Unexpectedly feeling the need to interrogate someone, I skidded to a stop, grabbing the first guy that I saw by his jacket and dragging him over to me. Looking him hard in the eye, a vicious snarl on my face as I panted from having sprinted for so long, I barked at him as if he'd have any idea what I was going on about, "Have you seen an albino Brit anywhere around here?" If I said that guy was puzzled, that would be a complete understatement.

The poor man all but had a freaking heart attack. His face turned as red as a strawberry and sweat dripped down from his forehead; he tried his best to stutter out some kind of answer to get me the heck away from him, "I-I-I don't know what y-you're talking ab-bout!" Not knowing what I might do to him after learning that he had no good information for me, the man started on the verge of hyperventilating. But I was already done with him.

Releasing his coat from my fists, I took off down the sidewalk again, nearly crashing into a group of ladies dressed in expensive-looking business clothes. One of them shouted some obscenities after me, but I was too busy wondering about the man I was looking for to care. Melvin had said that the perfect person to test the variscite out on would be the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, granted that we were able to find him. The Egyptian had made it quite clear that said ghoul was a slippery fellow.

From the very moment that Melvin had mentioned the Ring's Spirit, my mind had been lost to daydreams of who he might be. I knew that he opposed Pharaoh like Melvin did, and I'd heard his name before, but I couldn't remember it. But other than that, my thoughts were free to make him whoever they wanted. Currently, I was picturing some guy similar to Duke and his dark, tantalizing beauty. I wasn't certain why my mind was acting this way, but…

A girl could dream, couldn't she?

Despite the fact that I hadn't been paying even one shred of attention to where I was going thanks to my thoughts, most everyone had gotten out of my way in a hurry and I hadn't run into anyone. _Most_ everyone, that is. As I rounded another corner, hoping to find the one I was seeking down a street other than this one, I crashed into someone, my nose smacking against his hard collarbone. I hit him with enough force to fall over backwards; he didn't fall, though, which made me feel very uncoordinated.

I snarled up at the man from down on the ground, my hand tracing my nose to make sure it hadn't been sent back into my skull. "Hey, watch where you're—" The rest of my threat caught in my throat when I locked eyes with the guy I'd run into. For a moment, I thought that I'd met up with Ryou again since we usually did find each other at random times like this, and that was why I'd stopped speaking so harshly. I couldn't talk to Ryou like that.

But this wasn't Ryou.

Dark, irritated, golden brown eyes burned my leafy green ones, singeing them like a forest fire as he glowered down at me. Wild but sleek white hair flowed half way down his back, parts of it sticking out in seemingly random directions; two little wing-like protrusions were nestled like devilish horns atop his head. His pale face and almost black eyes were framed by some of the longer strands of white, making him appear almost like a demon disguised as an angel.

I would've thought that was the truth too, if I hadn't noticed the Millennium Ring resting against his blue-and-white-striped shirt, partially covered by a light green button-up left open. But there it was, shining brilliantly in the afternoon sunlight, every part of it glittering as if having been made by the gods of Egypt themselves. Something told me, however, that the Millennium Items had a more complicated past than that.

As I stared at this extremely aggravated stranger (he was probably just pissed that I'd run into him like I had), I began to feel as if I'd seen this man before. He looked so…familiar, but not because this was practically what Ryou would look like if he became an insane killer or something. It was different, like I'd met this guy before, or at least passed him while on the street. But I knew that the street option was out; I would've stared—_remembered_—if I'd seen _him_.

My thoughts were interrupted briskly when Melvin came up behind me, grabbed onto the back of my shirt, and roughly dragged me back up onto my feet. I didn't bother looking back at him; I knew he'd be irritated, so it wasn't worth the effort of tearing my eyes off the snowy-haired man in front of me. His eyes stayed on me even as Melvin began to speak (I could tell by his tone that he didn't like this guy at all—that they knew one another quite well), "You must stop knocking my accomplices on their tushes. It's getting very old, very fast."

"Maybe," My heart pounded in my chest like a gun being fired off every second when I realized that this man had a British accent. _This_ was the one that Melvin had had me running all over town to find. _This_ was Bakura, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring. The golden-eyed albino crossed his arms before his chest as he answered gruffly, clearly hating Melvin as much as Melvin seemed to hate him, "you should get minions that aren't so blind and weak."

All cheer at having found Bakura faded instantaneously at his insult to me, and I no longer cared that we needed someone to use as a test monkey. "Who are you calling weak?" My hands balled into angry fists at my sides, but it didn't make me feel much more powerful. I wasn't sure what the Millennium Ring, let alone Bakura himself, could do, or if my variscite could compare in brutality. Currently, I was doubting that I could even get it to work being this distracted.

Like I'd expected, Bakura seemed unfazed. "Who's asking?" Adrenaline poured into my veins as the realization of that voice being directed at me finally hit. I wasn't sure why two words spoken by those lips and that tongue meant anything more to me than what anyone else's would've, but…he seemed…_different_ compared to others. I wasn't sure if I liked this or not.

I mean, this wasn't a crush or anything—of course it wasn't, why would I even consider that I was freaking out because it was? It was stupid to think like that. Nevertheless, this guy sent my sanity over the edge, sent it spiraling into the dark abyss of never-return-again. And I had no idea why. "None of your business, you—" I was about to snarl out some kind of insult, but Melvin's hand clapped onto my shoulder and I caught my tongue just short of my vile words.

Confusion was the first thing to hit me. I thought I'd been doing what Melvin would've wanted me to: Verbally fighting with someone that he obviously hated viciously. My head spun to project this perplexed mindset to my Egyptian companion, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were trained on Bakura, the dark purple orbs becoming almost black as hate and malice filled them to the brim.

"Allow me," He hissed coldly, though the ice was not intended for me, but for the albino that stood boldly before him. It was quite impressive, really, that this Spirit-man held no apparent fear of Melvin. I'd never met anyone who was more than willing to stand up to him like this before. I wasn't sure whether to think he was brave or incredibly idiotic. Or both. "I have more practice hating this _wanker_ than you'll ever comprehend." _…That's British for something bad, isn't it?_

Bakura smirked at the other's words, laughing to himself as he mockingly taunted the tattooed Egyptian, "Incredible. You're actually _right_ about something for once. The world really is ending." I scowled at the possessor of the Millennium Ring, enraged by his attack on my only companion, but Melvin didn't seem bothered in the least. He'd really been serious when he said that he had a lot of experience with this guy, this..._Bakura_…

"This world is mine, and it'll end when I tell it to. As will your life," The blonde snapped back heatedly, his words coming out as if he believed that they were completely and utterly true. His tone was so convincing that I couldn't help but wonder if such a thing was possible. I mean, so many things that shouldn't be real were—magic, the Egyptian gods, spirits without true bodies, and so many other incredible, inexplicable things.

What was so hard to believe about a man being able to tell the world, 'You're done', and have it listen? I believed that the marks on my arms and shoulders were put there by a god who controlled chaos and evil. I believed that the weapons I'd been given in the form of gloves were magical, and that I could to almost anything that I wanted to with them. I believed that I was friends with a split personality that another acquaintance had formed. Why wouldn't someone be able to destroy the world with his words?

Bakura's velvet but malevolent voice drew me back to the conversation at hand, his sarcastic tone driving a new touch of irritation into my already aggravated soul, "Wonderful," I noticed about then that his eyes had finally left me and were now glaring into the lavender orbs of the foreigner that stood beside me. "Now, get away from me before I decide I _am_ in the mood to kill you." Without so much as a second of hesitation, the white-haired male started forward, pushing past the both of us as he began to leave.

My eyes were drawn to him as he started to walk off, but my gaze didn't go unnoticed. The brown pools framed by silver hair caught mine in a vice grip, refusing to let me look away. I felt a spark of heat course through my body when his shoulder brushed almost tenderly against mine, a tingling sensation filling up my stomach as well. A small, almost unnoticeable shudder trembled through my body at the feeling; I quickly looked away from Bakura as he continued on his way, not once looking back at either Melvin or myself.

The strange shivers and fluttering nausea didn't leave me even after he did. It was as if I'd been injected with some kind of virus from that one little bump of his shoulder, like his skin was poisonous. For all I knew, it could've been. Or, thinking a bit more realistically, it could've been some kind of act that the Millennium Ring could perform. Either way, I knew that I'd never felt this oddly before. I felt like I was going to be sick, like I needed to lie down on the sidewalk until the world around me stopped spinning so violently.

Of course, that was out of the question since Melvin would probably notice if I suddenly collapsed onto the sidewalk after having met Bakura, since that was far too odd to be just a coincidence, and there was no way that he'd ever let me live it down. Half of Domino City would know about the little ordeal before I had time to utter one syllable of protest. So, I had to force myself to keep from tumbling over; however, I couldn't stop from shaking.

Melvin didn't seem to notice my strange reaction to Bakura's agonizingly piercing and intriguing gaze. The only thing he'd come to terms with so far was the fact that the silverette had left without giving either of us a chance to weasel him into our training plans. "…Well, that didn't go the way I'd planned." He muttered to himself as he placed his hands on his hips and scowled at nothing in particular.

My trembling eased away and became a mere tremor in my fingers as I glanced over at Melvin, one eyebrow arched. "You had a plan?" I questioned, my tone coming out both surprised and with a touch of insult to its breath. Then again, that kind of a sound was normal for me whenever I was talking to Melvin. I mean, really…it was Melvin. There was no actual…_normal_…around him. At all.

"No. Hey, look," The Millennium Item-wielding Egyptian didn't seem to give a crap about my mocking tone, and ignored it completely. Then again, he did that to me a lot—the whole ignore-the-stupid-person thing. Besides, his attention was focused on someone else, and was currently trying to get me to see the importance of the newcomer sitting on the sidewalk about a half-block away by pointing at him like a little kid would at a puppy he just saw. "A hobo."

I glanced in the direction of Melvin's pointing finger, noting the tattered brown coat and the layers upon layers of other clothes that the dirt-covered homeless man was wearing. His eyes were tired; they'd seen a lot of pain and suffering in this world. I couldn't stop myself from wondering how he'd come to be this way, so alone. But that didn't seem to cross Melvin's mind, and I didn't care enough to ponder it for very long.

I made a small gesture with my hand, trying to get Melvin to at least give me a little bit more information about what he was thinking. He had this weird thought in his head, this…theory: He had the strangest feeling that I was able to read his mind like a billboard. Well, I couldn't. "…And? What is so special about this hobo? Does he have a Millennium Item? Or a penny that he stole from you or something?"

He chanced an odd look at me for the penny comment, risking losing sight of where the man might wander off to. But he stayed right where he was, completely unaware of the horrors running through Melvin's sadistic mind. "We need a practice dummy for today, and Plan A didn't work. So, he's going to be our Plan B." He said it as if it was the simplest Math problem in the world, and he couldn't figure out why I wasn't able to understand it like he was. Or as if he were trying to explain why bullets were able to kill people.

"But we didn't even have a Plan A—" I tried desperately to make sense of what was going on in his head as he schemed, but it was all in vain. When you were partnered with Melvin, be it for a Science project or a possible murder, there was really nothing you could do except say, 'Yes, Melvin. Whatever you say' whenever he said something to you. If you attempted to think about it rationally, or at all, you'd only end up losing your mind and becoming just as insane—if not, then more—as he was.

And the world could only handle one Melvin Ishtar.

As he started to walk calmly towards the doomed homeless man, I was attacked by more of his odd brand of 'logic'. "Who needs a Plan A when you have a hobo?" I stared after him with my head cocked slightly to the left as I tried to process his words, my mouth hanging open absentmindedly. I'd had no idea that hobos had infinite power in Melvin's world. _…Maybe that's not a real hobo…Maybe he's…like, Hobo Man or something crazy like that—_

My wandering thoughts were interrupted by the lavender-eyed blonde yet again. "Well, come along, you little fool." I shook my head to lose all of the thoughts clouding my brain, and saw that Melvin was already half way to the defenseless man, who still hadn't even glanced over at the commotion going on between the two of us. Dark, manipulative eyes stared at me impatiently as Melvin waited for me to come to terms with the fact that he'd started moving again.

He'd already begun the first steps of demonic Plan B.

Without another sound—no protests, no concerns for the other man's well-being, no nothing—I followed Melvin as he lead the both of us over to the man.

* * *

><p>My head felt like it was going to pop. I'd been sitting upside-down on the couch for so long—I couldn't even recall the correct amount of time—and it felt like all the blood in my body had pooled in my skull. Every breath I sucked in made it feel worse, like my brain was a balloon and every time I took in more air, all of the precious oxygen went straight into it, only making the close-to-exploding feeling that much worse.<p>

I'd had the same sort of feeling when Melvin had me practicing with that homeless guy, though it had been a tiny bit different. Maybe…it had been a less physical feeling, I think. There really was no other way to describe it, now that I thought about it some more. It was like…like seeing someone that you really liked but couldn't talk to no matter how many times that you tried, no matter how much you wanted to or how many times your friends attempted to start the conversation for you and yet you ended up running away like a headless chicken searching for some duct tape to screw its head back on with.

…Yeah, there was absolutely no way _that made sense_ to describe how it had felt.

I glanced over at Melvin from my spot on the couch, my brain thudding violently despite how simple the movement had been. He was still sitting at the island counter in the kitchen, writing something that he refused to talk to me about. Apparently it was super secretive or something, seeing how he'd written it in hieroglyphics the moment that I had become curious. I couldn't be certain, but I had a strange feeling that he was taking notes about the variscite and just didn't want me to know.

But, whatever he was writing and whatever the reason he didn't want me to be able to read it aside, he was busy, and I had all night left to waste away. I didn't have anything to do around here besides try and make sense of all of Melvin's squiggles and picture-words, but even then I'd probably end up trapped inside some other dimension or the Shadow Realm if I bothered him more than necessary.

_Wandering aimlessly around the city it is, then. _I rolled to the side and righted myself before getting off the couch. Casting a glance over at the balcony doors, I saw that it was completely black outside, ignoring the light from the streetlights and the bright moon. But the darkness didn't frighten me like it did to many others since I knew all the horrors that it could hide, and I knew that it they were easily destroyed.

"I'm going out. Probably be back in…never mind. I'll wind up here eventually," I called over my shoulder as I headed for the door, pocketing my small flip-open knife as I did. I didn't think that I would actually need it or anything, but it wouldn't hurt anything to have the darn thing along. Besides, I could always use it to entertain myself somehow. Not sure how yet, but…I'd think of something. Eventually.

"If you die," I mentally rolled my eyes at Melvin's 'warning', immediately thinking that there was absolutely no way that anybody living here in Domino City could pose even the tiniest threat to me. Well, aside from Melvin, of course. Or that Bakura guy…but then again, he didn't seem like the type to go hunting after some random girl that he met earlier that day, so I probably didn't have anything to worry about there. "I'm gonna be pissed. Just saying."

I made a small 'mmhmm' noise at him before leaving the apartment (as soon as I closed the door behind me, I realized that I didn't have my key and swore at myself for being so forgetful). But, instead of wasting more time by retrieving it, I shrugged it off and continued on my way down the hall, down the steps, and out into the crisp night air. There was a touch of a breeze, but other than that, the night was silent and calm.

As I walked down the street, accompanied only by the sound of my feet padding on the sidewalk and my shadow mimicking my movements from afar, I thought blankly of things that should've been bothering me a lot more than what they actually were. Like the variscite and my lack of knowledge regarding it. Melvin seemed more than intrigued, and I was too, but it felt like I was…stuck with it. I didn't like feeling forced into something, let alone destined to be trapped with it forever.

And apparently I was stuck with this magical rock because of some ancient Egyptian god—Set, I think it was—who was caught in my mind like an animal in a zoo. I could hear his thoughts in my head sometimes, but they were spoken in a language that I'd never heard uttered before (kind of like Melvin and his hieroglyphs) and I couldn't understand anything other than the fact that sometimes he was somewhat content, and at others he was more…vexed, I guess. I didn't know if there was a reason for the conflicting emotions, but I didn't know how to ask about it even if I wanted to.

I wasn't sure how he could've gotten into my mind in the first place, though. I mean, it wasn't like I'd ever been to Egypt (although, for all I knew I could've been. Melvin reasoned that I couldn't remember anything about my life beyond the past three days was because I'd gotten a sudden, unexplainable case of amnesia. Which was a bit far-fetched, but what else were we supposed to think?) to have had any contact with a relic. Well, aside from the Millennium Items. But they had spirits of people in them, not the souls of gods.

And while I was on the subject of stupid crap that I didn't understand/couldn't remember coming to be, how had I gotten those strange hieroglyphics on my arms and shoulders? They looked and felt like tattoos, but they seemed so…apart from my body, like it truly threatened anyone who came near me. If it was a tattoo I'd gotten, why would I have made the words spell out a curse unless I hadn't had any clue what it actually said? But if it wasn't…

Then would the curse actually work?

_That's stupid superstition and you know it, Kushoku. Just drop it._ No matter how hard I tried to convince myself to change the subject of my thoughts, I couldn't leave that question unattended. If it didn't do anything, then I was wasting my time thinking about it right now, yes. But if it was a real curse and there was a real violence buried deep within the ancient words, then what would become of the people that I came into contact with? What would become of me?

I wasn't sure what to think of it, but I also didn't want to bring it up around Melvin either for a reason I wasn't completely sure of. It was plain to see that I didn't mind bothering the crap out of him—hell, it was one of my favorite pass-times—but I was starting to notice that he would get very quiet and think for long periods of time when I asked certain question or mentioned certain things, like anything about Set or the other gods, or what he thought about my 'amnesia'. His silence frightened me little, but it was not knowing what was going on behind the quiet that made me a little uneasy.

Nevertheless, that wasn't the only reason why I didn't want to bring it up. Melvin already thought that I was prone to fretting about unimportant things, and I didn't want this to end up doing nothing but adding to his list of 'Stupid Things You Think Too Much About'. And that was already starting to become a pretty long list.

I sighed exasperatedly; I hated how I couldn't get certain things out of my head. _Like that stupid Bakura guy…_

Oh. Right. _Him_.

I snarled at my own thoughts, pissed that my search for an escape from one obsession had only lead me into one that was a bit…I don't know, weirder? Not that anything about me was even relatively normal, but this was going pretty far even for someone like me. I mean, I had absolutely no idea who this guy was except for the fact that I knew his name and that he was the spirit that had been trapped in the Millennium Ring—and he was the guy who shoved me out of Ryou's head—and yet I got such a strange, _familiar_ vibe from him. And not because he looked a little like Ryou.

It was as if I'd met him before, heard that sinister sarcasm at some other point in my life. Perhaps that was proof of the amnesia theory. But then again, if I really had met him before and knew who he was, then he should know me as well and wouldn't have needed an introduction. But…he'd looked at me with the same confused look of 'Should I know who this person is?', so was there a chance that we had met before—

My thoughts were interrupted by a couple of deep whistles coming from the parking lot I was almost past. Even though it was against my better judgement, I cast a glance back in the direction of the obscene noise, and spotted a group of shady men leaning against the hood of a dull red car. They were all smirking at me; one of them waved, and I had a feeling that he was the one who'd whistled.

Irritated at myself for having even acknowledged their presence, I turned away from their daunting grins and continued on my way, pretending that they hadn't even been there. It was foolish of me to have let them break into my thoughts like they had; my processing all of these crudely organized memories should be one of my top priorities, not some gangster-wannabes trying to—

"Hey, hey, hey, little lady!" A curt yet gentle and smooth voice snapped out of the darkness behind me. I tried to ignore it at first and kept walking, pretending that I hadn't heard him shout, but my attempts were thwarted when two other men came running out from an alley a few yards ahead of me. I stopped short of smacking into them, astonished that they'd been fast enough to cut me off. Unless they'd been waiting for a signal from those other guys… "What's the big rush, missy?"

I turned slowly around to face the tall, tanned man that was speaking to me, a stupid, I'm-so-dang-awesome grin resting suavely upon his lips. But I wasn't impressed. A menacing snarl was slapped onto my face, and the knife in my pocket suddenly weighed a couple hundred pounds. Accepting the temptation that it offered me, I stole it from my jeans and closed the short distance between me and the speaker, slamming the sharp blade into his upper thigh.

After relishing his shriek of both pain and surprise for a brief moment, I allowed the blade's handle to slip from my hand in favor of making a getaway dash. However, I lingered a second too long, and that gave the two men behind me enough time to recover from the astonishment of my sneak attack, enabling one of them to reach out and snatch me in a headlock before I could escape. I cussed quietly, making the other man laugh.

While the man that I'd just injured slinked back to try and remove the projectile from his upper leg, another with blinding platinum blonde hair came up out of the dark with a glimmering smirk on his face. And a shiny little blade of his own, though his looked much longer and sharper than mine had been. _This…I've got a bad feeling about this…_

The blonde must've noticed me staring at his knife; he followed my gaze down to it before grinning back up at me. "So, you're a fan of knives, are you?" I offered him a mere growl as a reply, not wanting to waste my breath mincing small talk when even a moron could assume what was running through his mind. _Now would be a great time to actually understand how this freakin' variscite crap works. Or maybe that voice—Set—could give me a hand._ "Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to play. That is, if you cooperate with us…" A dark chuckle tore through the air around me.

The man with the blade started to come toward me again, the sharp metal glinting threateningly in the moonlight as he approached. My mind hadn't quite pieced together exactly what might happen to me if I didn't get away soon, but it had gotten about as far as 'this is really, really bad' before I'd switched into escape-right-freaking-now mode.

I struggled against the grip of the man behind me, but he was much stronger than I was, and his grip was starting to choke me. _If only I knew how this stupid variscite worked! _Dissatisfied to simply give up without trying everything that I could, I closed my eyes and focused on the variscite, focused on delivering pain upon these evil men, focused on—

A loud snap sounded from behind me, intertwined with a cry of pain as the muscular man holding me suddenly released me and dropped onto the ground, his neck twisted in a way I knew for a fact it shouldn't be able to. It was completely silent all around as the creeps and I tried to process what the hell had just happened. My confusion was absolved when a gleam of mystical gold caught my eye in the shadows.

Whoever it was, they had a Millennium Item.

"Hey!" The dark-eyed man who'd just threatened me a few moments before seemed to be one of the most shocked out of all of us. His face had gone completely pale and I could almost see goosebumps of fear raising up on his skin. I wasn't surprised, though, since the dead man behind me looked like he'd been mangled by a demon. "Who the hell—"

He never got his full question out; he dropped to the ground before he could. A shocked, horrified gasp came from someone, but I wasn't entirely sure who. I knew that it wasn't me—I'd stopped breathing altogether when that first man had fell to the pavement. I could feel my heart pounding like a drummer with a sugar rush in my chest, something that I hadn't noticed it doing before. I didn't remember being this frightened by these men, but it was hard to argue with the such physical evidence.

When it came to the bodies now laying in front of and behind me, however, there was next to no indication on how they'd been wounded, especially when no one had seen the perpetrator. That right there was apparently too freaky for the guys who'd just tried to grab me. Most of them took off running in different directions, a few screaming in terror and a few too stunned by the experience to make any noise at all. Before I had really even figured out what was going on, I was alone again.

Well, not entirely.

"You're lucky I'm feeling a tad bit gracious tonight," Shock and a twinge of apprehension struck me like a bat to the head at the sound of such a familiar yet strange voice. I spun around despite how much I didn't want to have any kind of confrontation with…_him_. And yet…I couldn't bring myself to really want to leave without at least seeing his face.

Bakura came up out of the shadows like a glorious serpent from its hole, his walnut-brown eyes gleaming like polished metal in the valiant moonlight. His silver hair seemed to glow as said light did, the same shimmer and shine wafting through it like the ripples of a previously-stagnant pond. But there was a fearsome air to him, a breath of this…this…confidence that made me feel…insignificant. Like he was a god trapped in human form, though the reality was much closer to a simple spirit bound to the Millennium Ring.

He approached me without any kind of caution, a threatening yet somehow charming grin on his lips. I assumed it was because of the way that I was staring at him as if he'd just told me that his tongue was made of gold and licorice. When he finally came to a stop, he was about a yard or two away from me; I had the urge to take a few steps back myself, but I figured that that might be a sign of fear or weakness, neither of which I wanted to show in Bakura's presence.

I didn't understand why I felt so strangely around Bakura, though. He was pretty, I did have to admit that, but…but that was it. I didn't know who he was aside from the fact that he was a spirit I had somehow given a physical body, had once been stuck in the Millennium Ring and had had to use Ryou Bakura's body as a host form, and for whatever reason…I felt like I knew him. And the whole thing with how he'd probably saved my life only moments ago.

I gulped once, my throat dry for no particular reason that I knew of, before muttering out some sort of a reply, "…I…I guess that depends on what you mean by 'lucky'," I cursed myself mentally; my voice was nowhere near as strong or resilient as Bakura's British-accented tone had been. A light pink coasted onto my cheeks at the indignity of being thought of as skittish—and all because of this spirit! "How do I know that you're any different from those other men, anyways?" I already had a bit of a hunch that he was nothing like them, but I was a little interested in knowing how Bakura might answer.

He looked at me for a moment, leaning forward absentmindedly as he appeared to inspect my face. Those piercing brown orbs seemed to scorch my skin, burn my gaze and meld it to his as he stared down at me (he was quite a bit taller; I came up a little past his chin), staring as if he were trying to piece together some sort of puzzle in his mind. Perhaps the same one that he'd been so fixated upon this earlier today.

"I don't waste my time stalking little girls," He stalked around me like a lioness, his eyes holding mine as long as they could, though I followed his movements with my gaze as if he had some kind of hold on my mind. "I have more pressing matters to attend to, and I don't plan on spending much more of my time on you—" He paused; I could sense his mind racing as he thought. "What was your name again?"

I blinked in surprise as he came back around on my left, brown orbs yet again dancing with emerald. I'd thought for a moment that this was some kind of mockery to make me think that he didn't even think I was worth remembering, but then I realized that he'd actually wanted to know my name. For whatever reason. "…It's…I'm Kushoku…" I hesitated for a moment, really and truly wanting to ask one of my questions, though I feared what he might remark regarding them.

In the end, I sent my anxiety packing and inquired softly, tentatively, "…Have we met before today? You seem…I feel like I should know you a lot better than what I do." I could feel my heart pounding and pounding and pounding within me, climbing its way up to nestle in my throat like a baby penguin would cuddle its parent's feet. However, this was a lot less cute and a lot more aggravating.

The silverette stared at me for a long moment and stopped pacing around me. From his spot in front of my right side, Bakura searched my face a bit more critically, apparently having had the same wonderings as I had. He inspected me for a minute or two before shrugging, crossing his arms over his chest and uncaringly stating, "I don't remember you. You're probably confusing me with Ryou, like most people do."

I nodded at his answer, knowing that it made sense, but still not wanting to believe that it was really that simple. I knew what Ryou looked like, and that was not the face that I saw in Bakura's, the mysterious glint in his eyes that I knew I should recall. But my mind refused to cooperate with me, and I saw no point in chasing after answers with a man who would clearly rather take off right now and leave me in the dark rather than hear one of my 'theories'.

However, somehow, I was wrong about one of those assumptions.

"If you're done with your game of 'Ask Bakura the Strangest Questions Possible', we should go," Bakura breezed past me and started back in the direction of where the apartment was. _How…how did he know that we got that place? He couldn't have been following us if he manifested a day or two ago…_ Misreading my confusion, Bakura gestured down the street. "You think my little double-homicide is going to keep those fools away for very long? I'm walking you back so I don't have to waste my night chasing down delinquents." And with that, he continued down the street.

Not knowing what else to do, I reluctantly ran to catch up with him, though I left a great deal of space between the two of us when I arrived at his side. It felt so…weird to have someone who was practically a stranger walk you back home, especially when he didn't seem to find anything odd about the situation whatsoever. The only thing Bakura seemed concerned about was how fast we walked and how soon he got rid of me.

But I wasn't done with my question game yet, so I took advantage of the quiet and asked, although there was a touch of reluctance to speak again notable in my tone, "Why…why did you help me back there? We aren't friends—I'm in a life-long deal with a guy that you hate, so that's not great buddy-material—and even if that wasn't part of it, we only met today! Why did you kill those men to save me?"

Bakura was quiet for a moment, his eyes never once glancing over at me as he pondered my questions, mulling it over in his mind for quite a while. Long enough, actually, that I'd begun to wonder if he even planned to answer me at all. However, after a few minutes went by in steady silence, he replied rather briskly, "I did the same basic thing for Ryou when he was my host. It was a spur of the moment sort of thing. Nothing more, and nothing less.

"Anything else that you want to ask me?" The way that he snapped out the inquiry told me that this was more of a threat. Something along the lines of, 'Ask me one more question and I'll perform the most unimaginable torture on you that not even the best scientists in the world wouldn't be able to tell that your leftovers are even human'. I shook my head, repressing a sudden smile; for whatever reason, I'd found the threat more funny than harmful.

We walked the rest of the way back to the apartment building in silence, though it was a reasonably comfortable one, and not the awkward sort of thing that you'd expect. It was as if we were both content enough with one another's presence that we didn't need to disturb the air with formal chatter and clichéd small-talk. The quiet, serene feel of the night was much better than any conversation could've ever hoped to be.

Bakura didn't follow me into the lobby when I turned and walked through the doorway; instead, he continued on down the sidewalk without so much as a word of 'fare well'. Though, the fact that we weren't actual friends didn't really entitle him to anything. Especially not saving me from a gang of hormone-crazed psychos.

I didn't completely buy the silverette's excuse, though it could have something to do with part of the conspiracy, though it couldn't have been all of it. It was easier to tell me apart from Ryou than it was to tell the sun apart from the moon, unless it was just the fact that someone had been in trouble and saving the person had been the first reaction to cross his mind since it was normally what he had to do when he'd been in their minds.

Sighing exasperatedly, I plunked my feet up towards the apartment, taking the stairs even slower than an old lady would have. For some reason, I wanted to rush back down the steps, through the lobby, and find Bakura again so I could try and get him to be sure that he didn't remember ever meeting someone that even looked the littlest bit like me.

I wasn't sure why that bothered me as much as it did, but it did. I reasoned that it was such a plague on my mind because there was a chance that those hidden memories of Bakura/someone that Bakura knew very well would unlock some part of my memory, possibly rid me of this amnesia-like sensation. The thought made me excited, and I rushed up the rest of the stairs, now filled with even more energy than I had been when I'd left.

But I still didn't have my keys.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you guys liked the chapter :) Please let me know what you guys think of the story so far-crits are welcome, but try to be reasonable with them and not flame since that doesn't help anybody out. Nevertheless, it's 12:23 AM here, so good nightmorning and thank you for reading!**


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